blind ReaderxFrance Love Unseen
by CountrygalxHetalia
Summary: The reader has been in a terrible accident and can't see. She's pushed the world away and doesn't think it can get any worse. She one day meets Francis Bonnefoy and her whole world it turn upside down. Will he and his awesome friends accept her?
1. New People

**Ok, quick note. There is implied USxUK in this chapter, and there is a little bit more in the next few. There is also implied PruCan which is also delved into a little more. I promise things won't get too bad, just a kiss here or there. I'm just warning you in case you don't like yaoi or don't ship them together. If you do, please just continue reading! **

**I'm not really sure if blind people can do this, but I just kinda made it fit :D I can see myself doing this if I ever went blind. I know blind people can't actually 'see' things, but I imagine being able to picture someone in my head if I was able to feel there face. Just my imagine running wild again I suppose :D **

**Oh, and one more thing, Francis' spelling is off because of his accent, they don't prnounce h's at all, so that's why there are apostraphies. and then the th sound is a z. The spelling is like it is for a reason. I wanted to do Gilbert's as well, but I wasn't sure how to do a German accent. If someone wants to inform me I can go back and fix it :D Ok, I'm done now!**

* * *

I felt through my backpack, trying to find my lunchbox. I grabbed the handle and felt for the table. I set my lunch down on the smooth surface and felt for the zipper. I opened it and blindly reached for my food and started eating. I'd learned real quick to keep all my stuff close by or else it'd get taken. People were just mean that way.

I knew I was alone. I didn't need to be able to see to know this. I was a loner, even when I had my sight. I would sit by myself and watch people walk by me, not even trying to resist throwing me dirty looks. At least now I couldn't see the looks they gave me. I adjusted the dark glasses on my nose and finished eating. I knew they were dark because the doctor at the hospital had told me. It was so I didn't freak people out with the way my eyes looked now.

I shoved the lunchbox back into my bag and sat. I didn't have anything else to do. I couldn't read anymore. I couldn't draw, or write, or do anything. I listened to talk and chatter around me, letting the sun warm me from the cool breeze that was blowing through the open lunchroom. That was one good thing about sitting outside.

I heard the bell ring to leave for the next class and I stood up. I sat in the same spot every day and knew my way around fairly well by now. I walked forward, gently tapping my walking stick in front of me, searching for any obstacles blocking my path. I heard the shuffle of feet and doors opening and closing. I continued my slow trek forward until something smacked into the back of my legs. Hard.

I fell forward, my hands thrown in of me. My head struck something, probably a bench, as I fell and hit the ground. I dropped my walking stick and my glasses flew off my nose. I heard them skitter away as the person who tripped me snickered and ran off. I sat up slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain in my wrist and rubbed my head. I sniffed and wiped my eyes. _Why am I crying?_ I though miserably. I should be used to this by now.

I felt around, holding my wrist to my chest until the cool metal of my walking stick was under my fingers. _Now my walking stick._ I crawled around on my hand and knees, trying to keep the tears from pouring out of my eyes. I heard the bell ring again and I sighed. Another late class period. At least it's the last one.

"Are you looking for zese ma chѐrie?" I heard a thick accent to my left. I looked down and tried to stand up, hoping he had my glasses. "If I may ask, why are zey so dark?" I steadied myself and looked up at him. I knew my eyes would give it away immediately. The _ irises used to be bright, shining and beautiful. My eyes used to be the only thing I liked about myself. The beautiful color was now dull and glazed over. They were a dim _ now and had a grayish film covering them with dark circles permanently ringing them.

"Can't you tell?" I asked shakily, irritation lacing my light tone. I'm glad I can't see his face. I'm glad I can't see the surprise and sudden pity in his eyes. I don't want his pity or anybody else's. That's why I shoved myself away from the world and everybody in it. I don't want sympathy or pity from anybody. I can take care of myself and I don't need anybody else's help. I don't care about pities and sympathies. I want a friend. Someone who will actually care for me and what happens to me. Somebody who will take me for who I am, with or without my sight. I bring my fingers up, wiping my eyes.

"Yes, I can," he said softly, no trace of pity at all. I finally recognized the thick accent. It's French and I only knew one guy in this school with a French accent and it was buy his reputation.

"Francis?" I asked, looking down and trying to control my shaking.

"Oui, ma chѐrie. Francis Bonnefoy at your service," he said, a bit of his ego slipping into his voice. I'd definitely heard about Francis Bonnefoy. He was a womanizer and would sleep with any girl he could get his fingers on. I remembered seeing him a few times but couldn't bring up an image of the Frenchman. He just wants sex, he doesn't want to be friends. "And you are?"

"_ _, now may I please have my glasses back?" I asked, reaching my hand out blindly for my glasses. He grabbed my wrist and I hissed in pain, snatching my hand away.

"Ma chѐrie, what's wrong?" he asked hurriedly. The tears that sprung to my eyes this time were out of pain.

"M-my wrist. I must've twisted it when I fell," I muttered. I winced as I gently probed the injured area.

"Would you like me to take you to ze nurse?" he asked sweetly, lightly placing my glasses in my hand. I could hear the honey in his voice. I was about to shake my head, but realized I wouldn't be able to do anything if he left me there. I was disorientated and didn't know which direction my next class was in. I didn't even know how to get to the nurses office if I wanted to, and by the feel in my wrist I needed to go.

"If you wouldn't mind," I said politely, placing the dark glasses in front of my eyes. I could sense him smiled and he looped His arm through mine.

"I don't mind at all," he said cheerfully. _Why is this guy helping me? Isn't he like really popular or something? And if he wanted to get in my pants, why would he want to do it with a blind girl?_ Question after question raced through my mind as I tightened my grip on my bag and shrunk my walking stick into its compact size and stuffed it in my bag. WE started forward and I heard a door open and felt warm air waft over my skin. _We're inside._ As we walked down the deserted halls I listened intently to the sounds of our feet Echoing off the walls.

"Thank you," I said suddenly. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not. "I would've been stuck out there if you hadn't come along." I looked down, not seeing the floor passing under my feet. A warm hand landed on my shoulder and I raised my head.

"You are a very smart girl, ma chѐrie. I believe you could 'ave done it," he said. My blind eyes widened for a moment as I reached up and idly tugged on my earlobe.

"Thank you, Francis," I whispered. I felt him move closer and then a pair of lips was on my cheek. I could feel light stubble scratching against my jaw.

"De rien, ma chѐrie," he grinned. I could feel heat rush into my cheeks as I blush bright crimson. I should've stopped thinking right there, but my brain just wouldn't let me. I couldn't help but wonder if he might actually care. Could it be possible he wanted to get to know me and actually be my friend... I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought. He was a womanizer who just wanted to get in my pants. But what if… _Ugh!_ "We're 'ere," Francis announced a few minutes later.

He led me into the office and the nurse looked at my hands. She said it was simply sprained and wrapped it in what I think was an ace bandage. I was told not to use it for the next few days and ice it twice a day for twenty minutes. I nodded, feeling woozy. I also remembered hitting my head and told her. She quickly checked to see if I had a concussion. I heard a sigh of relief and she simply told me there was a small bump and that I should ice that as well. I gave a small and thanked her and Francis helped out of the office.

"So, ma chѐrie, where do you want to go?" Francis asked politely. I blinked, not seeing what was in front of me.

"I figure I just need to get to my last class," I said, wishing I could just go home and sleep. It'd been a long day.

"'Mm. I guess we could do zat," he said, drawing out the silence. I heard another door opened and cool, afternoon air blew around me. I could hear cars a ways ahead of me, driving by. _The parking lot?_ "Or we could leave a little early and go for a drive," he suggested. I mused over it, thinking about my options. I could stay and go to my last period class and ride the bus home, or… I could stay with Francis, get a ride home, and maybe… possibly make a friend.

"Alright, sounds good." I smiled in what I hoped in his direction. "Can I hold your hand?" I asked innocently, "just to get to your car?"

"Why of course," he said his smile evident in his voice. He grabbed my uninjured hand and laced his fingers through mine. "Right zis way." I couldn't help but grin as he led me to his car. I heard a car door open and he gently helped me into the seat. I could still feel the sun on my skin and hear everything around me.

"Convertible?" I asked as I listened to him walk around and jump into the driver's side.

"Very nice mademoiselle," he chuckled and started the car.

"What color?" I asked as I listened to the hum of the engine. I ran my fingers blindly along the outside.

"Blue," he replied and pulled out of the lot. "So, where do you want to go?" he repeated as we rode along. I finally took my bag off my shoulder and set it in floor board.

"Hm. Does Wellston Trails sound alright?" I asked.

"Sounds lovely," he said. "It is ze perfect place to go on such a beautiful day." I smiled, silently agreeing with him. This was wonderful. I'd never ridden in a car like this before with anyone, especially with someone like Francis. I leaned back and drowned out all the excess sound, closing my blind eyes and just basking the amazing feeling of freedom. Of what life could actually be like. I was letting all my protective walls crumble so easily. I'd wanted something like this my whole life.

"Thank you for everything Francis," I said, hoping the wind rushing through my _ hair would yank my words away before he could hear them. A large warm hand covered my own.

"You're welcome _," he said, his voice soft and kind. I sat up, my eyes squeezed shut. As I opened them, I'd never wanted to see someone more. We drove along in silence until I felt the car slow to a stop.

"We're 'ere, ma chѐrie," Francis said. I heard him hurry out of the car as I fumbled with the door handle. "Let me," he said, suddenly in my ear and opening the door. I giggled as he took my hand and helped me out. I leaned down quickly for my bag and reached in. My fingers closed around my walking stick and I pulled it out, slipping it into my back pocket. I heard the slam of the car door and felt his arm slip through mine.

He led me through the woods down the path towards the small park I knew was at the end. I'd been down the trail while I still had my eyesight. We walked for a bit, talking softly admiring the nature around us, well, I listened to it, before it hit me. I barely knew Francis, except by his reputation, and I was walking with him through a rather secluded forest. It was so sudden that became momentarily dizzy and stumbled.

"_?" Francis asked worriedly. I shook my head, pushing my glasses back up my nose.

"I'm alright. Just dizzy," I said, trying to regain my balance and praying that it would just go away. That was probably the worst part of being blind. Something would hit me so sudden that I just became dizzy and I couldn't do anything to try and make it go away. It would have to fade on its own and sometimes it would be absolutely horrible, especially when it hit so fast and sudden that I became nauseous. Like now. "Is there anywhere to sit down?" I asked, trying to take deep, slow breathes.

"Oui," he said softly and gently tugged on my arm. He set me down on a bench, I believe, and I immediately leaned forward, holding my head in my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut even though it didn't make much of a difference. I shivered slightly, my breathing extremely shaky. I didn't want to be sick, no in front of Francis. "_," he said, placing a light hand on my back. "What's wrong?" I could feel the nausea fading slightly and the cloud clearing somewhat from my head.

"I… I just got really dizzy. It can be really bad sometimes, but I think I'm alright now," I said, sitting up and rubbing my temples.

"Are you sure?" he asked, placing a hand on my forehead. I blushed at the contact and nodded, about to reassure him but the interruption of the Captain America Theme song cut me off.

"Un moment, ma chѐrie," he told him. I figured he had to answer his phone. "Bonjour Alfred. What is it?" he asked. I heard mutters on the other end. "I 'ad a… situation to attend to. Why?" More static talk, this time quite a bit longer. "Why don't we all get togezer at ze usual place and you can all meet 'er for yourself?" At this I looked up in his general direction, alarmed. I was about to protest but a finger silenced my lips. "Alright, yes. Sounds good. We'll be zere soon. Au revoir." He hung up and removed his finger.

"What was that about?" I asked hurriedly, trying not to shout. I heard the leaves crunch under his feet as he stood up.

"Zat, ma chѐrie," he said, grabbing my hands and pulling me up, "is ze sound of opportunity!" I didn't even have the time to ask what kind of opportunity!

Francis practically had to drag me out. He threatened to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, but I absolutely refused. He helped me back into the car and we were off. Wherever we were headed, he sure was in a hurry. This is when I finally decided to call my dad and tell him I'd be home a little later.

We stopped suddenly, making the car and me jerk forward.  
"Oof! Where are we?" I asked, unbuckling my seat belt.

"McDonald's," Francis replied distastefully. "Alfred insists on coming 'ere every afternoon even after we've 'ad lunch." He helped me once more out of the car and led me across the restaurants parking lot. I heard the door ring as he opened it and warm air that smelled like grease and potatoes surrounded me.

"Hey! Francis! You made it, and you brought a friend!" an energetic voice called from across the room. It didn't sound like to many people were occupying the room. I wrapped my arms tightly around one of the Francis'. I'd never been much of a people person and I didn't know what they'd think of me. I tried to walk slightly behind Francis, but he held me tight to his side.

"Ohonhon! Of course I made it!" the Frenchman said, puffing out his chest. He led me through the restaurant towards his friends. "Boys, I would like you to meet _," Francis introduced me. I blushed furiously, ducking my head. What would these guys think when they found out that I couldn't see? Francis helped me sit down in a booth so I was squished between him and one of his friends.

"Vhy hello zere. I bet it's a pleasure to be meeting ze awesome me!" a male voice said in front of me and to my left. He had a thick German accent. I smirked and rolled my eyes behind my glasses. I didn't know if I was hearing thing or what, but I swear there was a soft… cheeping sound.

"Oh of course," I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. all the boys laughed and I grinned shyly.

"I'm Gilbert, and zis here is Matthew," the voice said. I nodded, pretending to see Matthew. They still didn't know.

"Hello Matthew," I said, praying I was looking in the right direction. Before he could respond, a Spanish accent interrupted.

"Hola señorita! It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," he said, taking my hand and kissing it. I giggled and nodded.

"Nice to meet you," I replied smiling. Someone shifted to my right and I turned my head slightly.

"My name's Arthur and the git beside you is Alfred," a British accent said next. I chuckled as the person right next to me whined.

"I'm not a git! I'm the hero and you didn't let me do my hero bit!" the same voice from earlier, Alfred, that had called to Francis replied. I heard the muffled sound of flesh on the back of a head. I laughed again and turned towards Alfred.

"It's ok, go ahead and do your hero bit," I said, curious as to what this guy had planned.

"You really shouldn't encourage 'im," Francis whispered teasingly in my ear. I smiled and listened as Alfred threw an arm around me.

"The name's Jones. Alfred F. Jones," he said in deep voice. I burst out laughing, along with the rest of the guys at the table.

"Very good! I loved it!" I told him, grinning.

"See! Somebody gets good acting!" he told his buddies. They all sighed and I guessed that most of them rolled their eyes as well. I felt Alfred turn back to me. "So uh, _, what's up with the dark shades?" he asked me. I sighed as I felt the smile slowly slide off my face. Francis gently squeezed my hand, signaling it was okay. I just knew somebody was going to ask that.

"I… I'm blind, you guys," I whispered softly. It was absolute torture having to sit there and wait for someone to tell me to leave.

"Vell zis just isn't acceptable!" Gilbert said suddenly, I think the cheeping sounds got even louder, making me jump, "she cannot see ze awesome me! Ve must fix zis!" I looked up, scared that they were going to kick me out, but Francis simply chuckled.

"Sometimes, 'is ego is bigger zan Al's," he whispered in my ear. I tentatively lifted my hand and touched the Frenchman's shoulder. I felt my way up his neck to his ear. I leaned in a whispered.

"Aren't they going to make me leave?" I asked. I hadn't realized how quiet it was until I could sense everyone looking at me.

"_, why would we make you leave?" Arthur asked. I felt heat rush to my face.

"Cause' I can't see," I mumbled, bending my head.

"Señorita. Just because you can't see is not a reason to make you leave," Antonio told me. All the others murmured their agreement and a new voice spoke up.

"He's right. Just because you're blind doesn't make you bad, just different." The voice was soft and kind and had a slight… Canadian accent? It must've been Matthew. I hadn't even realized that I'd started crying.

"T-thank," I said, rubbing under my eyes. Francis pulled me close and kissed my temple." You guys are the first people to even think of being my friends."

"Are you kidding me?! You're amazing! Even if we just met you, you're amazing!" Alfred cried, throwing an arm over my shoulders. I laughed along with the guys. "Heck, I don't know how one of didn't find you sooner." I grinned at them. They all really wanted to be my friends. I finally had people that cared, friends that I could depend on.

"Ve still have a problem! _ is still unable to see ze awesome me!" Gilbert interrupted. I rolled my eyes and leaned over the table.

"Come here," I instructed, reaching my hand out.

"_, ma chѐrie, your 'and," Francis said. I looked towards my hand, seeing nothing. "Ze bandage." I nodded in realization. I'd completely forgotten about my wrist. I moved it around, hardly even wincing.

"It feels alright. Would you take it off Francis?" I asked. He must of nodded because he grabbed my arm and unwound the fabric. "Thank you," I said and looked back in Gilbert's direction. "Now, come here," I said.

"Um, alright," he replied uncertainly. I felt him sensed forward until his cheek was under my pal,. I took my other hand and was about to reach out, but paused.

"Do you mind if I take my glasses?" I asked. "Sometimes my eyes weird people out and I just want to make sure it's alright."

"Sure, vhy not?" he said. I grinned, shaking my head before removing the dark sunglasses. I lifted my hand again.

"I don't know what color you hair or eyes are. Somebody tell me," I said, gently running my fingers along Gilbert's smooth jaw and cheekbones.

"He's got silvery white hair and deep, garnet red eyes," Matthew said softly. "He's also got pale white skin." I quirked an eyebrow as I continued my search, tracing his lips, nose and eyes.

"Albino?" I asked, running my fingers over his forehead and brushing the hair hanging over forehead.

"Oh yea!" Gilbert replied proudly. I smiled. I was about to remove my hand when something sharp stabbed my finger.

"Ouch! What was that?" I cried, yanking my hand back. I stuck the injured digit in my mouth, letting the pain slowly ebb away.

"Gilbird! Zat vas so unawesome!" Gilbert said sternly, chastising something.

"Gilbird?" I said nervously, removing my finger from my mouth. A few of the boys muttered something while Francis explained.

"'E keeps ze most annoying little bird around and it likes to stay in 'is 'air. It's bright yellow and a little bitty zing," he told me. I gave a disbelieving look but shrugged.

"All done then, I guess" I said. "I think I can see you pretty well," I told him smiling. Gilbert had a firm jaw with prominent cheek bones. I tried picturing all the details in my head, including Gilbird sitting atop his white hair. He was fairly good looking, excluding the small yellow bird. "Anyone else?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

"M-may I?" Matthew asked softly. I smiled warmly and motioned for him to lean forward. My hands met his cheek and as they began roving his features, Gilbert described his appearance.

"He has light brown hair, vith a curly cowlick und bright, violet, amethyst eyes," he told me almost lovingly. I wondered distractedly if something was going one between the two. I felt Matthew's cheeks and nose. His face was a little rounder than most and I supposed he still had some of his baby fat. He 'looked' rather cute.

"And his skin?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair, searching for his cowlick.

"Just ze normal peachy color. Not to dark, not to light," I heard the smile in Gil's voice. I found the cowlick and ran my finger over it. It had a single curl. I felt Matthew stiffen slightly under my touch. I heard the Prussian and Alfred laugh.

"All done!" I grinned, pulling away. "Freaked out yet?" I asked laughing.

"Just a bit unnerved," he mumbled. I chuckled and nodded my head understandingly.

" Yea, sorry about that. My daddy told me how… off my eyes look now," I said and tapped my glasses. "It's why I wear these." I smiled and gave a little shrug." So, who's next?" I asked, turning towards the remaining three. I felt Alfred shrug beside me.

"Heck, why not?" he said. I smiled and turned towards him. "Should I take my glasses off?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I'll do that," I said, reaching forward blindly, "helps me get a better picture." A large hand grabbed my own and pressed a warm cheek into my palm. "Gosh Al, you feel like you're burning up," I said, moving my fingers nimbly along his throat, jaw and chin. He had a kind of a rounded jaw and noticeable cheekbones.

"I'm just naturally hot," he smirked. I rolled my eyes and Arthur smacked him in the back of the head again. "Ow, Iggy!" he whined. Another smack.

"Don't call me that, prat," the Brit muttered. I laughed, working my way up to his lips, nose and temple. There was absolutely no baby fat. His cheeks and entire facial structure felt so familiar. I found his glasses and took them off carefully.

"Are you and Matthew brothers?" I asked curiously. I felt his eyes widened in surprise.

"Yea, we're twins. How'd you know?" he inquired, awe thickening his voice.

"The shape of your both cheekbones, your jaws and the structure of your faces as a whole are very, very similar," I said simply. I felt his mouth gaping as I opened my own again. "What are your eye and hair color?" I asked. This time Arthur answered for Alfred.

"He has bright, azure, too blue eyes. His hair is a dark, golden blonde with a very stubborn cowlick and he's got dark, sun kissed skin," the Brit said admiringly. I scrunched my eyebrows together. _These two as well?_ I rubbed my hand along his forehead and came across the stubborn cowlick. I ran my finger along and heard Matthew laugh across from me and heard Arthur chuckle as Alfred shivered violently. I quirked my head to the side.

"I'll explain later ma chѐrie," Francis whispered, sensing my curiosity. I nodded and let my hand slide down Alfred face once more. This guy was more than handsome. He was hot… like really hot! I handed him his glasses.

"I think I've got a pretty good image," I smiled and reached for my glasses.

"_." I turned my head towards Arthur.

"Yea?" I said, blinking and wishing for the second time that day that I could actually see the people around me.

"Could you see me?" he asked. I smiled and raised my thin fingers. I jumped as a large hand gripped my wrist suddenly. I winced a little as he grabbed the sprained area. A hand was on my shoulder and Francis was reaching from behind me. I was so confused as to what was going on around me. I listened to quiet whisperings as my hand was released and then there was a sudden shifting.

"Sorry. Al just sometimes doesn't know 'is own strength," Francis' French accent was heavy in my ear. Everyone at the table was either snickering or sighing.

"Is… everything alright?" I asked uncertainly, sensing tension.

"Yes, everything's fine. Sorry about that," Arthur replied, now right in front of me.

"It's alright. You ready?" I reached my hand out tentatively. He grabbed my hand with thin fingers and placed it on the right side of his jaw and nodded. As my fingers probed along his cheeks and eyes, whoa, really thick eyebrows, I leaned my head to the side.

"He has brilliant, luminous emerald eyes with bright, messy blonde hair," Alfred said, realizing I needed information. "He has fair, very pale skin," he finished for me. I finished analyzing, stroking his cheeks and forehead one more and came to the conclusion he was very handsome.

"You are all very good looking," I said. They all bust out laughing and I joined them. "Antonio, how about you?" I asked.

"No señorita. I'll let you keep guessing at my amazing good looks," he said. I laughed as someone leaned over and smacked him.

We talked and chatted for most of the evening and Antonio finally let me 'see' him. He had dark eyes and skin, with thick, curly brown hair. He had a slender face, sort of like Arthur's. He was handsome in his own way. They told me a little about their lives and I told them about my accident.

I'd always had bad eyes. I'd unfortunately inherited them from my mother, and I had slowly started to lose what little bit of good eyesight I had left. I'd had to wear glasses for most of my life. My mother died when I still very young of a rare liver disease, so my dad, unfortunately, had to help me do a lot of my growing up.

He came home one night a couple of months ago, and he was drunk. My daddy didn't drink often, and even when he did, he hardly ever got drunk. That night, however, was an exception.

He daddy had come staggering into the house, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. His buddy's had taken him out again and talked him into drinking. He'd slammed the door shut and startled me. I was sittin' by the fireplace reading when he stumbled in, hollering for my mama. I'd seen my daddy drunk only once before and that was right after my mother died, and I was so young, I'd simply huddled under my bed waiting for him to sober up.

This time I simply tried to go to him and calm him down. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yelled. He screamed that it was all my fault my mama was dead. I knew it wasn't true and that it was just the whiskey talking, but it still hurt. I'd wiped at the few tears in my eyes and he told me to stop being such a baby. He went and drew his hand back and slapped me hard across the front of my face.

My glasses shattered upon impact, throwing glass right into my eyes. My dad's hand was sliced up pretty bad as well, but he was too drunk to notice. I couldn't do anything but cry and whimper on the floor, just begging for the pain to stop. That was the only time in my life that I'd ever wanted to die, because the burning pain in my eyes was so terrible. It felt as if needles were slowly being pushed, one by one into my eyes. My dad finally got a hold of himself long enough to realize what had happened and to call someone. He couldn't stop apologizing.

A neighbor finally came to help and drove up as fast as they could to the hospital. They had to knock me out immediately to extract the glass shards. I don't remember much except praying that my daddy didn't say anything about what happened to the doctors. I knew that if he did, there would be definitely possibilities of me being taken away from him, and he was the only family I had left. I couldn't leave my father all by himself, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go on if they took him from me.

I woke up to total darkness at who knows when later on. My eyes were closed and I couldn't open them. They ached and throbbed, but I'd handled worse. I was about to start freaking out and start crying when someone grabbed my hand. It was the doctor. He calmed me down and asked me what had happened. It hit me then and I realized something even before the doctor had to tell me.

I explained to him that my dad had come home rather tipsy and I was going to help him to bed, but I tripped. I'd landed on my face and my glasses broke. My dad immediately dropped down next to me to try to help and cut his hands in the process.

The doctor told me they'd stitched up his hands but he wouldn't be able to do anything too strenuous for a while. He asked me if I wanted to see him. I nodded but stopped him before he could leave. I asked him why I couldn't open my eyes even though I knew the answer. He paused and explained to me that the glass had cut my eyes too bad. I sighed, feeling tears come to my eyes and simply said, I wasn't going to be able to see again, was I? He told me no and went to get my father.

My dad felt absolutely horrible. He couldn't stop apologizing and he couldn't stop crying even though I was the one that couldn't see. I told him what I'd told the doctor and to go along with it. He agreed nervously and swore never to drink again. So far he's kept to his word. It took me a little while to get used to everything, but I eventually settled into my new life. I'd pushed everybody away because I knew what they thought of me until Francis came along.

"And now I know all of you," I finished softly. I could sense the gapes and stares. I'd never told anybody what had happened and now I was telling a group of guys my entire, pathetic story.

"_," Arthur and couple of other whispered. I sighed shakily and leaned into Francis for support. He wrapped an arm around my waist and held me close. I hardly knew the boy, but I felt so close to him for some reason. "How?" Matthew asked softly, sniffling.

"I do what I can in my classes. The teachers are really sweet and help out where they can. My dad makes fairly good money where he works, so were pretty good there," I replied. "He's had to give up so much for me because I can't see now. I know it's his fault, but I stop him from doing so much because of me." I think someone was going to say something, but my cell interrupted them. "Daddy's Hand's began playing out of my pocket. I fumbled with my pocket for a moment before Francis gently grabbed it for me. I noticed he didn't even try to grab me. I smiled gratefully as he handed it to me.

"Hello," I said softly.

"_! Where are you?" my dad asked worriedly. I sighed and smiled into the phone. I covered the speaker and asked softly.

"What time is it?" My father continued rambling on the other end of the line as Antonio replied.

"6:45, almost seven." I hadn't realized it had gotten so late.

"I'm with some friends, dad. I'll head home in just a minute, alright?" I told him, trying to sooth his frazzled nerves. He became so worried so easily now. "I'm sorry I hadn't realized it was so late." I heard my father sigh.

"It's alright hun. Just be careful on your way home," he told me.

"Yes sir, love you daddy," I said.

"Love you sweetheart," he replied and hung up. I followed suit and stuffed the phone back in my pocket. "Sorry boys but I gotta go." I told them with a smirk. They all groaned and whined in protest. I held up a hand grinning. "How about we all hang out again soon. Tomorrow maybe?" I suggested, gently pushing Francis out of the booth.

"Yes! Zat sounds awesome!" Gilbert said. I laughed as they all agreed. I reached for Francis' arm and he gently grabbed my wrist.

"Alright, tomorrow then. Bye guys!" I called, letting the Francis lead me out of the restaurant and back to his car.

* * *

**Just a few translations here.**

**French: Ma chѐrie - my dear  
Oui - Yes  
De rien - It's nothing. (It's more casual than you're welcome and it's what the French normally use, I asked my mom)mademoiselle - Miss  
Un moment - A moment  
Bonjour - Hello  
Au revoir - Good bye**

**Spanish: Señorita - Miss (usually a young, unmarried girl)  
**


	2. Confrontation

"So, Matthew and Gilbert?" I asked as Francis drove me home. I heard him laugh lightly through the wind rushing in my ears.

"You could tell?" he replied lightly. I nodded, leaning back in my seat.

"I could hear it in their voices," I told him.

"Zey try to not make it too obvious except when zey are around ze guys," he told me. I nodded again a laid my hand outside the window.

"And Arthur and Al?" I asked again. I could almost sense him cringe.

"Yes, sorry about zat. Alfred's just a little protective," he informed. I smiled and rubbed my wrist absentmindedly.

"It's okay, it just scared me for a moment when he grabbed me," I told him.

"'E didn't make it any worse did 'e?" I simply shook my head. We rode along and he finally spoke up again. "_. Can... can you really see people when you do zat?" he asked. I shrugged my shoulders and smirked.

"Yea, sorta. Of course I don't actually 'see' them, obviously, but I get an image of what they look like," I explained, "I don't think it's usually very accurate but it's the best I have." I smiled as the car pulled to ta stop. I figured we were at my house. I shivered as cool air rushed around the two of us. It was so cold now, night had definitely fallen.

"You know, ma chѐrie, you never saw me," he told me as he turned the car off. I smiled and blushed a little. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned towards, sitting crisscross in the seat.

"Come here," I said softly. I heard him unbuckle his own seatbelt and turn. I reached my hands out, feeling them shake as I searched for Francis. Two strong hands grabbed my own and led them forward. My fingers met warm, flushed skin. I could feel the extra heat radiating from his cheeks and knew my own blush was forming. "You're eye and hair color sir," I said in fake posh accent, grinning at my own silliness.

"Wavy blonde 'air ze color of gold and sparkling cerulean blue eyes zat shine like the stars, mademoiselle." I heard the laugh in his voice as he described the details I couldn't figure out by touch.

I smiled as I lightly felt his face. I ran my fingers along his jaw, feeling the light stubble. I slid my hands up, taking in his cheeks and running my thumb over his lips. I traced the bridge of his nose and gently ran my fingers over his eyes. I caressed the sides of his face, allowing my fingers to just barely brush his long hair.

"You're beautiful," I breathed, sighing heavily against his smooth skin. I felt new heat washing off the both of us again. I raised my hand and pressed my finger tips to his forehead. I don't know why, but I leaned towards the Frenchman, some internal instinct pushing me forward.

I followed my fingers, my heart pounding erratically in my chest. I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to kiss him so badly, but I'd only just met him. I let my lips press softly against his forehead. My eyes widened unseeingly as I finally realized what I was doing and I pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry! I d-don't know wha-" A finger pressed itself to my lips. It traced back along my jaw. My breath hitched as a gentle hand cupped my cheek.

"Shh, mon amour," Francis whispered. I felt him grab my glasses and pull them off.

"F-Francis," I stuttered softly. I sensed him lean in and felt his nose brush lightly against my own. I closed my eyes, though it didn't make a difference. I could hear and feel how rapid his breathing was on my face. It was so intoxicating. It muddled my thoughts so I couldn't think straight. His lips just barely ghosted over my own for just a moment, sending my heart into a frenzy. I jumped as a hand landed gingerly on my waist and our lips touched. It was simple, sweet, and exhilarating. I'd never kissed a boy and this… I couldn't even describe how absolutely amazing it was.

"_!" My name was suddenly being called. I yelped and pulled away from Francis, praying that he couldn't see the blush making its way up my neck. I touched my lips, still feeling a pleasant, tingling sensation. I grabbed my glasses and shoved them back onto my nose.

"Coming daddy!" I called. I grabbed my bag and Francis once again leapt out before me and opened my door. "Thank you," I murmured under my breath. He chuckled and kissed my cheek. _It's a good thing we have a long drive way so my daddy can't see,_ I thought, grabbing his arm and letting him lead me to my house.

"Oh _, thank goodness. I've been worried sick over you," my father said, not even looking at Francis yet.

"I'm sorry daddy. I called you and told you I'd be home a little late," I replied, letting go of Francis. I took small steps towards my father's voice until a pair of strong, muscular arms was holding me. My dad. "I was out with my new friends," I said proudly, jerking my head back at Francis.

"New friends?" he asked surprised. I rolled my eyes at his tone and slapped his arm.

"Yes friends!" I blushed, thinking about Francis' lips on mine again. "I'm going inside, is there food?" I asked, hobbling towards the house out of father's grip.

"Yea, on the table," my daddy replied. I could tell he was looking Francis over.

"Alright, see ya tomorrow Francis," I said and walked inside, my stomach yelling at me for food. I staggered my way in and began looking for the food. My father, however, stayed outside for another minute or so.

"Hello son," my father said, sticking his hand out. "Name's _(father's/n) _(l/n)." Francis reached his own hand out, grasping my father's firmly and shook.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. _(l/n)," the boy replied. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy." My daddy nodded.

"Nice to meet you." My father sighed, looking back to the house and then back to Francis. "I want thank you. _ hasn't ever mentioned anyone, much less had someone drive her home," he said. "She's ignored everyone since… the accident." He sighed guiltily, looking Francis over again. The teenager simply shrugged.

"It was no trouble at all sir. My friends and I are more zan 'appy to be 'er friends. Just because she can't see isn't a reason to shun her away. We all find 'er quite fascinating," he told my father. He smiled a little at this. He was a little worried about all these newfound friends being boys, but at least I was actually talking to people. He knew I didn't have any friends at school and it worried him even further though I told him not to.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. This the first time she's ever been out past four and I haven't seen a smiled that genuine on her face in a long time," my dad said, once again looking at the house. They could both hear me stumbling around and cursing as I tried to find a plate and silverware. "Anyways, thank you again," my daddy said. Francis nodded and bowed at the waist.

"You're very welcome sir. I was wondering, before I left, it if was alright if we did zis again tomorrow. If after school we went and met my friends again," he asked. "Zey zoroughly enjoy 'er company, as do I. She is extremely entertaining." My father thought about it for a moment before grinning and nodding his head.

"Yes, I think she'd like that. Good night Francis," he told the teenager. They shook hands once more and my dad walked back into the house to help me.

Francis made sure she _'s father was in the house and pulled out his cell phone. It had been vibrating the whole he'd been talking to her dad. He checked the messages as he simply jumped over the car door into the driver's seat. All the text messages were from Alfred. **Dude! Meet us Toni's place! ASAP!**

Francis rolled his eyes and sent a quick reply before starting the car and heading towards Antonio's house. The drive was short, but he already missed _ just being next to him. The cool autumn air was the only thing that kept his mind from wandering. He couldn't believe he'd actually kissed her. He'd felt as if fire had been running along the entirety of his skin as she'd leaned in. His heart had been pumping so loudly it had been the only thing he could hear. He had never felt this way with a girl before.

He knew that all the other girls wanted to be with him only because of his looks and his status. They didn't care about him, so in return he didn't care about them. They always left when they were done. They were used to try and fill an empty void that just couldn't be filled, no matter what. It was always the same with those girls. He never felt nervous or agitated. He was always able to predict what they were going to do. Not _ though. He had felt his breath shallow and he had started to shake as her breathe washed over him. And what she'd called him. No one had ever said that about him, not like she had.

He reached up and touched his lips, still able to feel the sweet softness of _'s lips on his own. She was amazing. The way she made him feel was wonderful and thrilling. He couldn't get enough. He couldn't be close to someone though. He'd pushed away people wanting to get close, just like _. He knew they would leave him, just like his father had. His only true friends were the boys in his group, and even then, Antonio was the one to initiate the friendship. _But… I _want _to be close to her._ Francis tried to shoo the thoughts away as he pulled into Antonio's driveway. He got out of the car and walked up to the Spaniards large house. Francis walked in quietly, knowing he needn't bother with knocking.

"Hey, look who finally made it," Alfred cried from the living room. Francis walked in and grinned. The sight before him, as usual, was quite humorous.

Antonio and Alfred sat on the plush sofa with Wii controllers in their hands, staring at the television. Arthur was sitting in front of Alfred, trying to rest his head against the American's knees without getting whacked in the head by his controller. The poor Brit looked extremely disheveled. His usual sweater vest was missing and his white button up had dark smudges and a few stains on it.

Gilbert and Matthew were on the armchair that was next to the sofa and half-way faced the television. Matthew was sitting sideways in the Prussian's lap with his legs dangling off the arm of the chair. He was reading a very thick book while Gilbert simply kept his arms wrapped his arms around the Canadian's thin frame and watched Antonio and Alfred play Wii Sports Resort Sword Fighting. They both look liked they'd been pelted with popcorn. Gilbird looked especially happy at this.

"Arthur, what's 'appened to you?" Francis asked as he walked in. The Brit looked up tiredly and tried to glare at him but failed and slumped against Alfred's legs.

"Someone forgot to mention that Feli and Lovi were spending the night," he started until Antonio cut him off.

"I told you I was sorry, mi amigo!" he whined loudly, continually hitting Alfred over the head with his sword on the TV screen. Arthur rolled his eyes and continued.

"So Alfred and I got out of the car and as I'm walking to the house, two little demons come running out with squirt guns. My sweater was soaked through and then I tripped on my way in," he explained, huffing and crossing his arms over her chest.

"Aww my poor Awtie!" Alfred teased and leaned down, trying to kiss the teenagers cheek. Arthur reached up and gently slapped his cheek.

"Prat. Eyes on the game," he muttered while Alfred backed away giggling. Francis chuckled and looked over to the arm chair.

"And ze popcorn?" he asked. Gilbert's red eyes looked away from the TV. He grinned somewhat evilly and jerked his head up towards the walkway that went around the entire room from the second floor. Basically, you could get up to the second floor and walk around the living room from above and see everybody on the ground.

"Ze Italian brats have been zrowing it at us for a vhile now," he told the Frenchman. "Gilbird is zoroughly enjoying himself zough." Francis laughed as he plopped down onto the loveseat opposite the couple and stretched out.

"I've told them they're going to regret it if they don't stop," Matthew said softly, not even looking up from his novel.

"There's pasta in the kitchen. Feliciano made it," Antonio said, continuing to smack Alfred around on the video game. Francis nodded and looked up as two little heads popped out over the balcony.

"Would you like some Francis?" the lighter haired child asked. The blonde nodded and the boy pulled his head back and hurried down the stairs. The darker headed boy stuck his tongue out at Francis.

"'Ello to you too Lovi." The Frenchman chuckled and watched Feli scurried about in the kitchen.

"So, Francis," Gilbert said, his gaze flitting back to the blonde. He looked away from the television and up to the Prussian's ruby gaze. "You and _, hm?" he asked, smirking. Francis blushed a light pink.

"What of _ and I?" he asked. Gilbert was interrupted in his interrogation as Feliciano rushed into the large living room with a plate of spaghetti.

"There you go Francis! Do you want wine?" the little boy asked quickly. He was really thirteen, as was his brother, but they both looked so much younger.

"Zat would be nice Feli, but you don't have to-" he couldn't even finish as the Italian hurried back to the kitchen.

"Feliciano! Stop serving the stupid perverted bastard and come back up here!" his brother called from above. Antonio immediately paused his game, making Alfred groan in protest but giving Arthur some peace, and stood up.

"Lovino Vargas, watch your language!" he called. The dark haired child stuck his tongue out and said a few more curses before running back to his room. Feliciano came back with a glass of red wine, handed it to the blonde Frenchman, and hurried upstairs after his brother. "Sorry Francis," the Spaniard muttered, sitting back down, but kept the game paused.

"It's alright," he replied and took a small sip of the dark red liquid. He smiled and settled into his meal. Feliciano may have still been a boy, but he could sure cook. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor of the pasta and ate as quickly as he could without messing up his clothes and Antonio's furniture. As he opened his eyes, he saw everyone looking at him.

Antonio was lounging back against the sofa cushions, his green gaze almost playful. Alfred had leaned forward and was playing with Arthur's blonde hair. The Brit had finally relaxed since Alfred had stopped throwing the Wii controller around. He was enjoying having his unruly hair played with. Both boys were looking at him rather intently. Gilbert had a devilish grin on his face and a plan glinting in his dark eyes while Gilbird sat atop his silver hair staring at him. Even Matthew was watching Francis with his violet gaze over the top of his book.

"What?" he asked, setting his empty plate on the small coffee table in front of him. "What are you all looking at?" he inquired worriedly. They were all silent, just staring at him and it was starting to freak him out.

"Francis," Matthew finally spoke up, "how did you meet _?" he asked. Francis' eyes widened and he quickly retold the story of how he'd found her outside the lunchroom, fumbling around for her glasses and then he took her to the nurses office.

"If you guys 'onestly don't like her 'er zen fine, but I won't-" the Frenchman started heatedly, only to be silenced by Alfred.

"No, no Frenchie. We didn't mean anything like that. It's just that… well…" he trailed off at a loss for words. Francis stared, extremely confused at the lot of them.

"I think, mi amigo, what we're trying to say is… you act different around her," Antonio finally translated for the quiet group. "You did not try to come onto her once. She even leaned into after she finished her story!" he said, surprise obvious in his features. All the other nodded their agreement and Francis blushed again.

"So, what is ze matter wiz zat? I don't 'ave to flirt wiz every woman I meet," he said, becoming very interested in his wine. "Just because she's different doesn't make 'er special. I'm only doing it because she's blind," he tried defending himself.

"Francis," Arthur spoke up. The teenager looked over at his friend. "I think it's her difference that makes her so special. I think, personally, that you're in love," he said simply, giving Francis a small smile. "I have Al, Gil has Mattie, Antonio's still waiting on that special someone," the Brit shot the dark haired teen grin. He winked in return.

"I already found, I just have to wait for her to come back," Antonio said, grinning like an idiot.

"Vat he's saying," Gilbert took over, "is zat ve all have our special someones, or vill soon enough, so vhy shouldn't you?" he finished, wrapping one arm around Matthew and reaching the other to absently pet Gilbird. Francis sighed, fingering the edge of his wine glass. He took a small sip and looked up at his friends.

"I zink I do," he said softly, "I zink I love 'er," he said in the same tone. He waited a moment, smiling as the tingling sensation from kissing _ returned to his mouth. He touched his lips with his fingertips. "I kissed her," he said, looking at everyone and holding the small Canadian's gaze. "It was small and short, but it was still a kiss."

"And," Matthew said, barely heard over the thumping and muffled curses from upstairs. Francis grinned. Not just at the memory, but at the situation and the scene. They hardly ever sat and talked like this.

"Like fire," he whispered. All the teenagers grinned. Every one of them knew that feeling.

"I think you've found her," Alfred said, leaning down and laying his cheek against Arthur's hair. "I think she might just be the one!" he told the Frenchman excitedly, wrapping his large arms around Arthur's small frame. They all smiled and nodded, not truly knowing what to say.

"Francis," Antonio spoke up. His gaze moved to the Spaniard. "What about her sight?" he asked carefully. Francis' eyebrows furrowed.

"What of it? She's fine wizout it, she said so herself," he replied hurriedly. He knew where this was head, and he didn't want to go there.

"Frenchie," Gilbert said. "I could see it on her face. She vants to see. She hides it so vell, but I could see it in ze finest lines of her face," he told the room. "She's learned to use her resources and she's learned to make due, but she knows vat it's like. She has had her sight before and she vants it back!" The Prussian was very thorough in his speech. Francis had sat up, downed the rest of his wine, and was holding his head in his hands, his thin fingers fisted in his blonde hair.

"Do you know… 'ow long it 'as been… since I 'ave talked to 'im…" he managed. Antonio watched, pained, as his friend sat in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fingers in his hair.

"Mi amigo," he said, standing up and walking over to his best friend. He'd known Francis since elementary school when he had first moved here from Spain. They'd both been outcasts, but had found each other and become friends. Francis had been there when Antonio's mother passed away, and in turn, when the Frenchman's father left him and his mother, Antonio was right there for his friend. The Spaniard knew the current relationship between Francis and his father, they all did, but only Antonio knew how hard it was for him.

Francis' father had let in the boys first year of middle school. Francis had to grow up without a father figure and it killed him every day. Antonio had had his own problems yes, but this had done something to his friend, something deep and something that could not be fixed. Antonio had spent many a night at Francis' house, comforting and watching the boy cry himself to sleep. He eventually was able to stuff by himself again and didn't need as much help. He was starting to heal, but he was healing wrong, twisted.

He and Francis met Gilbert _Beilschmidt and his younger brother, Ludwig, in their second year of middle school. Ludwig tended to stay by himself most of the time. The albino, however, was cocky, smart, witty and a knack for getting in and out of trouble. He'd had his own share of hardships, his father was a drunk and his mother had to work several jobs, but he tried to ignore most of his home life. He fit right in with Francis and Antonio. The trio became best friends_ and kept to themselves. People didn't like them and they didn't like people. They'd become rebels of a sort for their school. Their parents had tried to talk into them, but they didn't want to listen.

In high school they met Arthur and Alfred, who'd been together for a little while already, and Matthew. The Prussian had taken an immediate interest in the shy Canadian. He could see him when most people just looked right through the poor boy. They'd gotten to know one another and slowly became friends. Matthew had grown up keeping to himself most of the time, so the loud, obnoxious albino had scared him somewhat at first, but they'd become close. Eventually the two started dating and were closer than ever, even being absolute opposites.

The three new boys calmed the rambunctious trio down a bit. The mellowed, thankfully, as they got to know one another. Now they were one big group. It had taken a while to trust one another completely, but now they all knew each other's secrets. Their fears and flaws and they all accepted one another for who they were. They'd helped one another with whatever they needed and now they had to help Francis.

"Mi amigo," the Spaniard repeated, sitting next to his friend. "Why don't you talk to her," he eyed Gilbert, "about the slight possibility of regaining her eight before making any rash decisions." Francis released a shaky sigh and looked up into Antonio's bright green eyes. He nodded and closed his own blue eyes.

"Oui, I'll do zat. I zink, 'owever, zat I'll let her get to know me and vice versa. I may be in love wiz 'er, but it may take time for 'er to feel ze same," the Frenchman said. "She 'as always pushed people away. I know 'ow zat feels. I don't zink she ever let people be close to 'er before." A few of the boys nodded.

"Vell," Gilbert said, looking at his watch, "I'd best be going. It's getting late and I told mein mutter I'd be home at a decent time tonight. I also told Ludvig I'd help him wiz his homework." He gently slid Matthew off his lap and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told the boy, kissing him softly. Matthew smiled and squeezed the Albino's fingers.

"I love you Gil," he whispered and hugged the silver haired teenager.

"Ich liebe dich auch Mattie," he replied. He kissed his forehead quickly and walked towards the door. "Ze awesome me is gone, see ya!" he laughed and walked out of Antonio's large house. Matthew rolled his eyes and went back to reading.

"I'm afraid I must be leaving as well," Arthur said, standing up and loosening Alfred's grasp on him. "I'll see you tomorrow love." He bent and kissed the American quickly before Alfred could yank him into his lap.

"Love you Artie," he told the Brit as he walked towards the door.

"I love you too Alfred," he said smiling. "Thank you Antonio. See you all tomorrow." He opened the door and retreated from the house. Antonio made his way back to sofa and he and Alfred resumed their game. Francis waited a little while before standing up.

"I'll 'ave to be leaving too, mes amis," he announced and waved at his remaining friends. "See you tomorrow. Bonne nuit." The three boys waved at him and he left the house. He jumped into his car and hurried to his own house.

He pulled into his drive way and made his way into the house. He was so tired and his brain was so muddled he just wanted to go upstairs and sleep.

"Maman!" he called as he walked into the leaving room, "I'm home!" A tall, pretty lady with brown hair and green eyes walked down the stairs.

"'Ello Francis dear. 'Ow are your friends?" she asked as she hugged her son. He shrugged and followed her into the kitchen.

"Zey're good," he told her. He watched his mother shuffled around the kitchen before speaking again. "Maman, I… I met someone today," he said softly. His mother stopped in mid-movement and turned to look at her son. She knew what he did with the girls at his school. She knew why he did it and she wanted to stop him, but she knew no matter what she said, he wouldn't listen. If he'd met someone… she must be something special.

"Really?" she asked, almost dropping the tupperware in her hands. Francis nodded.

"Oui, and she's different maman. She… she can't see but she's very sweet and very shy," he informed her quickly. "I zink you'd like 'er." He looked nervously at his mother. She smiled at him and turned back to the cabinets.

"I'm sure I would dear. She sounds lovely. Now, 'ow about you go upstairs and get some rest," she told him. She grinned as she finished putting up the dishes and walked back to her son. "You look absolutely exhausted sweetheart. Is everyzing alright?" she asked, noticing just how tired her son looked. The blonde nodded and kissed her cheek.

"Oui m'dame," he replied, "just a long day, is all." He turned to go upstairs. "Je t'aime maman," called.

"Je t'aime darling," she replied. He walked into his room and flopped onto his bed. He kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. He sat up, rubbing his head. As he went to find pajama bottoms, Gilbert's words echoed continuously echoed through his head. _She hides it so vell. She vants to see!_ He sighed as he pulled his jeans off and slipped his pajamas on. He wanted _ to see, he did, but he didn't want to see his father. He'd left him and his mother when he was still nothing but a child. As much as he wanted to hate him, he couldn't; he was still his father. The only thing that filled his chest was a deep sadness. It ached whenever he thought about his dad.

"Ugh!" Francis grunted as he fell back onto his bed. He crawled underneath his covers and grabbed one of the shoes by his bed. He tossed it at the light switch, successfully turning it off. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes. He didn't think all the thoughts running through his head would let him sleep, but the moment his head touched the pillows, he was asleep.

"Night dad!" I called as I shut my door. I was full, tired, and ready to go to sleep. I changed into my pajamas and sat down on my bed. He kept running through my head. I sighed and laid down on my back. I wanted to see. I wanted to see them; my newfound friends. I wanted to see _him_. I sighed again and stood up to flip the light switch off. I couldn't see so it didn't make much of a difference to me, but it kept the electricity bill low. I laid back down and wrapped myself up in my blankets. I curled into myself, still able to feel a slight tingle dance across my mouth as I fell asleep.

* * *

**Translations**

**German: Mien mutter - My mother  
Ich liebe dich auch - I love you too**

**French: Mon Amour - My love  
Mes amis - My friends  
Bonne nuit - Good Night  
Maman - Mama  
Je t'aime - I love you  
Oui m'dame - Yes ma'am**


	3. Bad Touch Trio

I woke up the next morning, drowsy as usual. I didn't normally get showers in the morning, but my hair was greasy and I needed it. I showered quickly and got out, I pulled on the set of clothes my dad had picked out, and yes, my dad had to pick out my clothes now. I grabbed my glasses off my nightstand and then my brush. I shoved the glasses on my nose and brushed my wet hair, then made my way into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" I called. I could already smell breakfast. "Dad!" He was cooking eggs and bacon.

"I'm in here!" I sighed and felt my toes meet the tile of the dining room. I knew where he was, but I liked to mess with him.

"Dad, where's here?" I asked. There were times when he did actually forget that I couldn't see. I didn't mind most of the time, it almost made me feel normal.

Sorry hun. I'm in the kitchen," he replied. I laughed and felt my way to him. "You know you don't have to wear those thing here," he told me, gently tapping my dark glasses. I shrugged as he hugged me and set me down at the table. "Okay then. Eat up!" I heard a plate land in front of me. "We have fifteen minutes." I grabbed the fork I knew was waiting for me beside the plate and dug in. "So," my dad's voice was right next to me now, "Francis." I nearly choked on my eggs.

"W-what about him?" I asked, swallowing my food and feeling a blush rising to my cheeks.

"Well, you were out all yesterday afternoon with him-" he started but I cut him off.

"It was his friends too!" I cried indignantly. I quickly scarfed down the rest of my food as my dad laughed. I stood and glared in my father's direction. "I'm going to get my bags. Be ready to go when I come back," I told him and hurried out, trying not to knock my head in the process.

I could feel myself blushing and cursed my teenage hormones. I made it to my room with only a stubbed toe and grabbed my back pack and my purse and snatched my scarf and quickly wrapped it around my neck. I felt my way back into the living room and to the door.

"Daddy! Come on!" I yelled. I opened the door and shivered.

"Forgetting something?" my dad asked. I stuck my tongue out as he pressed my coat into my hands. "Come on," he told me. I pulled my thick sweater on and grabbed his arm and he helped me out and into our car. I held my bags in my lap as I waited for my dad to get in the car. "Ready?" he asked, starting the car. I nodded and felt the car back out of our driveway. "You know, it's not a bad thing if you have a crush," he said. I blushed and turned towards the window.

"Who said I had a crush?" I muttered, running my fingers down the window.

"Nobody," my dad said nonchalantly. "I figured since that boy drove you home… you know," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"That boy is Francis, and just because he drove my home doesn't mean squat," I said, drumming my fingers on the consol.

"True, but by the way you were blushing I just figured-"

"Can we _please _stop taking about this?!" I cried, trying to hide my face in my scarf. I heard him chuckle and felt the car stop. I could hear the muffled shouts and cries of high school students. We were at the school.

"Sure sweetheart, besides I think someone wants to talk to you," I heard the smirk in his voice as I pulled out my walking stick.

"Who?" I asked, opening the car door. My dad laughed.

"You'll see," he said and kissed my cheek. I rolled my eyes, managing to refrain mentioning I wouldn't be seeing anybody. "Love you hun."

"Love you dad. I'll be home late this afternoon, kay?" I told him, shutting the car door and talking through the open window.

"Alright, see ya _ (n/n)," he said. I waved and turned around, tapping my stick along the ground. I heard my dad drive off behind when an arm around looped around my waist.

"Bonjour mon amour," a thick accent whispered in my ear. I yelped slightly at the sudden contact and dropped my walking stick.

"Gosh!" I said, trying to bend down and find it, "don't you know better than to sneak up on blind people?" I asked Francis. He laughed and I felt him reach down.

"I'm sorry ma chѐrie," he told me as he handed me the walking stick, "I couldn't resist seeing your reaction." I couldn't help giggling.

"Yea, yea alright," I said. I shrunk my walking sticking down, seeing as I wouldn't need it once again and shoved it in my purse. "So, did you scare me for nothing or did you want something?" I asked, smiling up at Francis. He grabbed my hand and slipped his fingers through my own. I blushed slightly.

"I just wanted to talk to you before class started." I could practically hear the giddiness in his voice. I grinned and followed as he walked forward.

"Well, what did you want to talk about," I asked. I felt warm air as we walked inside.

"Zis and zat," he replied, "nozing in particular." I laughed and let him blindly lead me around. "Where's your first class?" he asked.

"Mrs. Martin, D Hall," I replied. I felt him stop and I did the same. I could sense him moving around so he was in front of me. _What was he doing?_ He didn't let go of my hand once.

"Ma chѐrie, may I walk you to class?" he asked quietly. I felt something soft brush against my knuckles and I blushed. He'd kissed my hand. _Was he bowing?!_ I couldn't speak for fear of squeaking so I simply nodded, blushing furiously. I prayed that no one was in the hall. Francis stood up and walked back to my side. I held onto his right arm. "Well zen… let's get you to class," he whispered in my ear. If it was even possible I was blushing harder.

He continued walking while I stayed latched onto his arm. I could hear mutters and whispers. _They're aimed at me,_ I thought. It's because I was walking with Francis, it had to be. I was nothing, I still _was_ nothing, but I was clinging onto the arm of one of the most popular boys in school. I could sense the multitude of stares.

"Um… Francis?" I whispered, touching his shoulder with my free hand. He leaned down so I could reach his ear. "Is everybody watching us?" I questioned. I heard him chuckled and then his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me somewhere.

"Not anymore. We're in ze classroom," he told me. I groaned, knowing he was avoiding telling me just how many people had been looking at us. "'Ere, sit down," he said, helping me into a desk. I felt him sit down on the actual desk part in front of me.

"You're absolutely crazy, you know that?" I inquired. I heard him laugh and smiled at the sound.

"Per'aps just a little," he replied. I grinned and reached a hand forward tentatively. "Looking for zis?" he asked and grabbed my hand with his own. I blushed lightly and nodded. We talked for the remaining twenty minutes before the bell. When the five minute warning bell rang, I felt Francis hop off my desk. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I blushed crimson and felt him smile.

"See you at lunch, mon amour," he said. My eyes widened and I was about to say something, but I knew he'd hurried out of the room. I listened as everyone came in and settled down. The second bell rang, signaling for class to start. I only half listened as the teacher began the lesson. I daydreamed through most of the class, as well as the ones after. I found out I had two classes with Gilbert, one of which he shared with Antonio, and one with Arthur. I hardly listened to the teachers and just wished my sixth period would end.

"Class dismissed!" the teacher called as the bell finally rang. "No homework!" I tapped desk as I waited for everyone to shuffle out of the classroom. When all the footfalls faded, I grabbed my bags. I tightened my jacket around my waist, I'd taken it off and tied it around my hips earlier, and walked out of the room. I stayed along the wall, not bothering to pull out my walking stick. I knew my way to cafeteria from here.

"_!" A soft voice caught my attention. I turned, hearing hurried footsteps making their way towards me. "Hey _. Mind walking to lunch with me?" It was Matthew. I smiled at the shy teenager.

"I wouldn't mind at all! Would you be my escort then?" I asked, holding my arm out. I could already tell the Canadian was blushing.

"S-sure," he replied, very gingerly taking my arm. "Are you sure you don't mind looking like you're walking with air?" I gently slapped his arm.

"Don't talk like that Matthew!" I chastised. When I had been able to see, I'd actually spotted the boy a few times. I'd always pointed at him and asked who he was, but people claimed they couldn't see him. Mattie was just a lot quieter than most and kept to himself, and he preferred it that way. "Remember what you told me yesterday? Just because you're different doesn't make you bad. Besides," I grinned at him, gripping his arm a little tighter, "I don't think Gilbert minds too much."

"W-what!?" he cried. He stumbled slightly and tripped. He was able to catch himself, but his momentum already had me falling forward. "_-_!" I turned in the air before I hit the floor, landing on my butt. I wasn't hurt or upset though. I was laughing. "_-_?" I continued giggling, not even caring about my notebooks being strewn all over the place. At least my glasses stayed on my nose this time.

"I'm s-sorry… Mattie! I-I couldn't… resist!" I said, gasping for air. I could sense his confusion. I took a few deep breathes, trying to control my laughter. "When I mentioned Gil, I figured you'd react, but not that bad," I explained, holding my stomach with contained giggles. "I-I'm sorry." I felt him kneel next to me and begin grabbing the contents of my bag off the linoleum floor.

"How… how'd you know?" he asked. His tone was curious, but held worry, like I was going to judge him. I grabbed his arm and he stopped moving.

"I could tell by the way you talked about each other yesterday," I said, hoping I was looking at him. He was quiet. I reached up, hoping I would find his face. I felt his nose and giggled again. "Sorry." I gently cupped the side of his face. "It's alright Matthew. It's love and I'm okay with that. You do love him, right?" He nodded under my touch and I felt the smallest of grins appearing on his face. I smiled at the light heat I could feel coming off his cheeks.

"_!" I jumped at my name being yelled. I pulled away from Matthew and turned. "_! Are you alright?" I knew that French accent.

"I'm fine Francis," I said. I heard him walk to us and I reached a hand up blindly, hoping one of them would help me. "I surprised Mattie and he tripped," I said as a strong hand gripped mine. I was about to use the hand as leverage and pull myself up, but the person had other plans. I was yanked to my feet and pulled into a slender, muscular chest. The scent of roses overwhelmed my nose.

"You 'ad me so worried," Francis murmured in my ear. My immediate realization was that my fingers, I had thrown my hands up to catch myself and they'd landed against the Frenchman's chest, were touching skin. I ran my hand down until it finally met satiny cloth. His shirt had a very low collar. It was very open and revealed his smooth skin all the way to the bottom of his rib cage where it tapered. I blushed profusely, feeling the muscle and strength under the skin.

"Like what you feel?" he whispered into my hair. I blushed again and tried to pull away, but he held me tight. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest. "Gilbert was worried ze two of you 'ad been taken somewhere and raped," he was talking to both of us now.

"Francis!" Matthew whined. I knew he was blushing as much as I was by now.

"I'm just telling you what he zought," he replied innocently. I heard footsteps walking away from us.

"I'm gonna go make sure he knows I'm alright, eh. You two hurry up!" he called, running now. I was about to get out of Francis' death grip, but I felt something warm land on my cheek. I reached up and wiped it away. _A tear?_ I heard quiet sniffles coming from right in front of me.

"Francis? Are you alright?" I asked, reaching up and taking his face in my hands. More tears hit my fingers. "Francis?" I said again, extremely worried now. His hands grabbed my wrists and gently removed them from his face. I opened my mouth to respond but suddenly arms were around my waist in a tight hug. I squeaked lightly as the strong arms enveloped my small frame.

"I was so worried about you," Francis said into my throat. "I was so scared zat somezing 'ad 'appened to you." I felt more tears land on my throat and shoulders. I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his soft, shoulder length hair.

"Shh, Francis. Shh, it's alright. I'm right here," I said softly. He took a few shuddering breathes and pulled away. "Are you alright?" I asked. I felt strong, slender fingers hold my face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his face right in front of mine, "please, don't ever scare me like zat again." I couldn't reply as his lips were pressed somewhat roughly. Before I could respond in kind, he was pulling away. My eyes widened and I touched my mouth.

"Francis?" I asked, trying to find him, seeing as he'd suddenly disappeared.

"Just a moment mon amour," he said. I turned towards his voice and felt as his arm snaked around my waist. "I'm sorry, we can go now," he said, tugging me along. I tried to turn and was about to protest.

"It's alright, I 'ave your stuff," he said soothingly. I sighed and leaned into him.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at him. He quickly kissed my temple and I took that as a 'you're welcome.' We were almost immediately outside. I heard people talking and eating as Francis led me to a table.

"Hey _ (n/n)! What took you two so long?!" I heard Alfred call. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help the heat that rose to my cheeks.

"I accidentally tripped Matthew," I said apologetically. I heard a few snickers as Francis sat me down and then sat down beside me.

"It's alright _," the Canadian replied, right next to me. I smiled and leaned close to him.

"Don't worry," I whispered, making sure the others couldn't hear, "I know about Al and Arthur too." I heard him giggled and I pulled away. I grabbed my bags from Francis and reached in for my lunch.

"Um," I said, my hand still roving my bad, "guys. Who's got my lunch?" I set my bad down, realizing I wouldn't have to watch it with the guys here. Well, unless I was protecting it from them.

"Vat lunchbox?" Gilbert asked. I huffed and crossed my arms.

"Guys!" I whined. If whining didn't work, I knew the perfect trick that would have them giving it back.

"You boys are terrible! Give 'er 'er lunch back," Francis said, mocking in his tone. I slapped his stomach, well, I was aiming for his stomach and got his chest, knowing he was the one who had taken it in the first place.

"We have no idea what you're talking about!" Alfred said in front of me, holding in his laughter. Time to work my magic.

"G-guys," I whimpered. I was so good at playing upset. I could even make myself cry. "Y-you're all s-so mean!" I pretended to sob. I made tears come to my eyes and lifted my hand to wipe them away.

"Señorita!" Antonio said hurriedly.

"No _! Ve're sorry. Ve didn't mean it! Here," Gilbert said hurriedly, shoving my lunch into my hands. I grinned, wiping away the rest of my fake tears.

"Thank guys," I said, smiling and opening the lunch box. "You guys are so gullible."

"You little devil," Arthur said, "I actually though you were upset." I laughed.

"That was the point!" I told him. "I'm hungry sand it," I giggled and dug into my food.

"You…" Gilbert muttered, obviously in awe of how I could trick someone so awesome as he.

"That was very sneaky señorita. Very sneaky and very smart," he said. I laughed again through the food making its way into my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed and continued praising myself and listening to the guys laugh. As they quieted down and talked amongst each other, a pair of lips snuck up to my ear.

"Zat was good, mon amour. You even 'ad me worried," Francis murmured. I giggled as his breath tickled the skin under my ear.

"I told you. I was hungry." He chuckled and continued his conversation with the others. I simply listened and smiled at the random bits of talk I picked up. It wasn't just from the boys at my table either, but at tables a ways from us. Ever since I lost my eyesight. my hearing had gotten a lot better. My eyebrows scrunched together as I overheard a couple of girls talking.

"Tonight's the night, Liz. We're gonna do it," one girl said.

"Deb," the other girl, Liz, replied, "I thought you were going to wait until after you were married." Deb sighed.

"I thought I was, but I just can't wait. I love him so much Lizzy, and he loves me. I know he does…" I continued listening to the two girls argue and was so caught up in them that I didn't even hear the bell ring.

"_?" I jumped as a hand touched my shoulder. "Are you alright?" Francis asked. I blinked and looked up his direction.

"Oh… uh, yeah," I mumbled, blushing slightly. That was one of the most embarrassing conversations I'd ever heard, and yet it had me thinking… _No! I've just met him, jeez. I don't even know if he likes me?! But if he doesn't like you then why has he kissed you. _I shook the extremely confusing thoughts away as he helped me stand and handed me my bags.

"What your next class and are you sure?" he asked, gently wrapping an arm around my waist. I nodded, shouldering my purse and backpack.

"Hilliard, T48, and yea. I was just uh… listening in on a couple of girls talking," I said as he started walking me to my next class. I heard him say goodbye to his friends before turning back to me.

"Ah, and 'ow can you do zat?" he inquired curiously.

"It's only because I'm blind that I can," I explained as he helped walk up some stairs. "Since I don't have my sight anymore, I have to depend on my other senses, mainly my hearing.

"Oh okay," he said. "so what were zey talking about?" I blushed bright red, becoming suddenly very aware of his arm around my waist and his hand resting on my hip. I wracked my brain for a fake answer. I realized, thankfully, we'd walked into my class

"Um… I'll uh, I'll tell you later alright. I don't want you to be late," I said quickly. I heard him grunt, but sigh in agreement.

"Alright zen, later," he said, "I'll see you after class." He kissed the top of my head and was gone. The bell rang and my literature class started. I actually tried to pay attention because I somewhat enjoyed literature. The teacher lectured for nearly half the class and then stuck in a video about the first pilgrims. I blocked out the noise and simply thought about the girls from lunch. It was nagging at me and I wanted it to stop!

At last the bell rang and I was free for the rest of the day. I smiled as I grabbed my bags and walked out of the door. I smiled at the prospect of spending it with Francis and the guys.

"_! Dude!" I heard Alfred calling from down the hall. It was cheerful enough, but it almost sounded fake.

"Al?" I asked, just making sure. He was running towards me, very much out of breath. "Is everything alright, Al?" I was suddenly worried something had happened to my friends.

"Uh… yea, yea. Everything is fine. I was instructed to come fetch you," he replied, trying to catch his breathe. I could hear the worry lacing his own voice. I decided to lighten the mood. My eyes widened in mock surprise.

"Oh really?" I asked. "Why couldn't Mr. Bonnefoy come and get me personally?" I raised my eyebrows, teasing him. He must have looked up and seen I was playing around.

"He sends his deepest apologies, Miss. _ (l/n). He, Mr. Beilschmidt, and Mr. Carriedo had some business to take care of," he replied in his best southern gentleman voice. I could still tell he was straining though, he was holding something back. I scrunched my eyes brows at his last sentence.

"Business?" I asked, worry and concern filling my voice. I'd heard of The Bad Touch Trio the moment I hit high school and I knew who they were as well. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis made up this trio and the way Alfred mentioned business made me fret. I heard him sigh shakily.

"If you'd come with me ma'am," he said keeping up the façade and gently taking my arm. I rested my hand in the crook of his arm and let him lead me down the hall.

"Hurry Al," I said, praying we got there before they did anything too stupid.

"Und don't you ever, ever touch him again! Next time you von't get so lucky to get off vith a varning!" Gilbert threatened loudly, heaving as he shouted at the three large jocks now laying half-conscious in front of him. His blood red eyes gleamed evilly as he stared hatefully down at them.

Francis and Antonio had seen the Prussian get mad before. It happened quite often; he was hot-headed, ill-tempered and he let things get to him easily. The only thing that would normally calm him down was Matthew. The boy would simply hold the upset teenager until he calmed down. However, when the only person that could calm Gilbert down was being shoved against a wall and being taken advantage of… You didn't want to be on the receiving end of Gilbert's wrath.

"I svear, next time-" he started but was cut off by a low moan.

"Gil," Matthew whimpered from his slumped position on the ground. The Prussian's head whipped around, following the voice. He glared down at the three boys again, kicking one in the side, before running to Matthew. "G-Gilbert…" the Canadian cried softly. Gilbert knelt by him, brushing dirty blonde hair out of violet eyes. He pulled the shaking boy into his lap.

"Shh, shh, Mattie, shh. I'm right here, everyzing's alright. Did zey…" he began to ask, but Matthew shook his head against the teen's broad chest. He sighed in relief. "Gott sei Dank," he mumbled. He gently, carefully scooped Matthew into his arms and lifted him with ease. "It's alright, I promise." Matthew shivered in the strong arms holding him and clung to the front of Gilbert's shirt, crying softly.

"What do you want to do wiz zem?" Francis asked, eyeing the bloodied boys still lying behind them. Gilbert practically snarled as he looked back at them.

"Leave zem. Someone vill find zem eventually," he growled and continued walking. Francis and Antonio nodded, following suit.

The three jocks had corned poor Mathew as he was coming out of his last class and backed him into one of the only alleys at the school. They'd wanted more than just his lunch money and the shy, frightened Canadian had no idea what to do. He'd yelled desperately for Gilbert, and they knocked him in the jaw. Francis had been walking past, going to get _ when heard the shout. He'd called Gilbert and Antonio for back up and then called Alfred to procure _ from her class for him. He wouldn't let Alfred anywhere near these guys.

The Frenchman instantly jumped in, knowing he'd be too late if he waited for Gil and Toni. He'd watched as Matthew fell in a heap on the ground and the three huge, obvious football players turned towards him. He'd started fighting, going three against one. He managed to land a few good hits, but they over powered him just as Gilbert arrived.

The Prussian had taken in the scene in less than three seconds, and gone from worried to 'so effing pissed off you are going to die' in less than half a second. He took one of them out almost immediately, knocking him out cold with one blow to the back of his head. Francis was able to get loose and help as Antonio got there. The three boys took out the other two with no problem.

Francis was the only fighting at first, so he was pretty beat up. He had a very bloody lip, most likely numerous bruises and at a least a black eye, a few scrapes, and one fairly bad scratch across his forehead. Gilbert had a few scrapes, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, and Antonio was simply scuffed up a bit. The Frenchman and Prussian were limping slightly.

"Mattie!" Alfred and _ had arrived just as Gilbert was putting the American's brother in his car. Alfred was going to be the only besides Gil allowed anywhere near Matthew right now. Alfred had made a mad dash towards his twin, leaving _ by herself.

"Hello!" she cried. Francis looked over and saw her flailing with her arms out in front of her.

"Mon amour," he said, hurrying to her and trying not to limp. He took her in his arms, hugging her. "I sorry I couldn't get you from class," he said, running his thumb across her cheek. She reached up and quickly brushed something away from her eyes.

"I-it's fine. I just got kinda worried when Alfred mentioned you three," she said, reaching up to touch his face. He flinched away, knowing she would be able to feel his injuries. She furrowed her eyebrows and reached forward again.

"_-_," he stuttered nervously. She shushed him with a finger to his lip. Her fingers probed his face, feeling the bruises and bumps. Her thumb brushed over the gash in his lip, making him wince. Her hand finally made its way to his forehead. He slender fingers ran along the long cut and was smeared with blood.

"Francis," she whispered, "what happened?" Once more, she was dying to see the boy standing in front of her.

* * *

**French: ma chѐrie - my dear  
mon amour - my love**

**Spanish: Señorita - Miss**

**German: Gott sei Dank - Thank God**


	4. Twins and Officialness

Francis grabbed the hand that was cupping his face and kissed her palm.

"I'll explain, I promise, but right now we just need to get Matzew home," he said. He grabbed _ around the waist and helped her over to the group. Arthur had arrived and was standing next to Antonio watching Gilbert and Alfred fret over Matthew.

"We could just take him to the house. Our dad won't be home yet," Alfred said, looking at Gilbert. The Prussian looked pained for a moment, but nodded.

"Alvight, yes, but vill you drive?" he asked, looking at Matthew and cupping his check tenderly. The poor teenager was still shivering and was curled into a ball with his eyes closed tight. Alfred nodded and stood up.

"We're goin' to my place, y'all comin'?" he asked, heading for the driver's seat. The three boys nodded and hurried to their own vehicles. "Artie, would you drive my car?" he asked Arthur. The Brit nodded and grabbed Alfred's car keys. "See you soon," he murmured, kissing Arthur quickly.

"I'll see you there love," he replied and jogged to the American's car. They all got in, started their cars, and rushed to Alfred's house.

I sighed heavily as Francis explained what had happened. I buried my face in my hands, praying that Matthew would be alright.

"Okay, I get all that, but why did Al come and get me instead of coming to help you guys?" I asked, still curious since it was his brother. I heard Francis chuckle lightly.

"If we had let Alfred come and take care of zem, zey wouldn't be breazing." My eyes widened and I turned towards him. Alfred didn't seem like the kind of guy to get worked up over much. "If Alfred would 'ave come, what we did would 'ave seemed kind. He doesn't 'ave much anymore. We're 'is friends, oui, but Matzew is 'is brozer. 'Im, 'is father and Arzur are what keep 'im going. Zat is why Alfred grabbed your 'and so roughly yesterday."

He told me that even though the boys were twins; their parents had divorced when they were little. Their father had gotten Alfred, who stayed in America, and their mother took Matthew and they moved up to Canada. The brothers grew up separately, but kept in touch with each other. They talked on the phone and over the computer; they even got to visit one another every now and then. They were still brothers and were determined not to let anything get in the way of that.

The boys were in middle school when their mother passed away. Her new husband hadn't wanted to take of Matthew so he sent the quiet teenager to live with his brother and father. He didn't mind too much. As much as he would miss Canada, he knew there was no point in staying anymore, and he wanted to go live with his brother and father.

He arrived in less than two days and was met by and extremely excited Alfred. The American hadn't really known his mother all that well, but he understood the bond between parent and child. He couldn't imagine what he would do without his father, so he helped Matthew with the loss of their mother. Even though he'd moved, he also preferred to keep his mama's last name, Williams, instead of changing it to Jones.

Eventually, they were totally inseparable; they never left each other's side. They did everything together, or tried their darndest anyway. Matthew did hockey in high school while Alfred did football. They always went to each other's games and always hung out when they could and they had almost all the same classes.

Matthew had been rather hesitant to let Arthur in and interrupt their comfortable routine, scared that he would change everything and take Alfred away from him. They got to know one another however and were now good friends. While in high school they met Francis, Antonio and Gilbert. They'd all been rather weary about the others at first, but eventually the Bad Touch Trio decided to mess with the three boys and well… here they were. You don't want the details, trust me. Francis wouldn't tell me anyway.

I realized that Francis had been talking for a good ten to fifteen minutes at least. I nodded as he finished, taking in everything that he had told me about the twins. They'd been through so much, it was absolutely crazy. I tried to set aside some of the information and let my brain take a rest and I asked why we'd been driving for so long.

"Matzew, Alfred, and zeir father live on a ranch a good ways out. It takes about twenty minutes to get zere," he told me. I felt as he turned off of the smooth asphalt onto bumpy dirt road.

"And guessing were almost there," I said, listening to the rocks and sticks hit the undercarriage of the car.

"Oui," was his simple reply. I heard the four cars pull up and the crunch of feet on the ground. "Come on ma chérie," Francis had opened my door and was helping me out. I grabbed his hand and followed him inside. I didn't say anything, but I could feel Francis limping as he helped me around. I could tell that the house was big by the large echoy sound it had when we walked in. I heard the shuffle of all our feet and then I was being led upstairs.

"In here." I heard Alfred say. I realized we were going into a room. "Just lay him on the bed Gil. I'll get the first aid kit."

"How bad is it?" I asked softly.

"It could be worse," Antonio answered. "He has a few scrapes and most likely a knot on his head, but other than that he should be fine. I think he's just more shaken up that anything." I nodded and pried Francis' fingers off my arms. I knew Gilbert would still be near Matthew.

"Ma chérie?" I held a finger to my lips. I walked forward slowly, trying not to trip on anything in the room.

"Gil," I whispered, reaching out in front of me, just barely brushing his shoulder. I heard him snarl and I was glad I couldn't see the look on his face. "Please let me look at him. My mother was a nurse before she died. I may have been young but I still remember some of the stuff she told me." I slowly reached up. I held his face in my hands and I was surprised to feel tears running down his cheeks. He was scared and frightened for Matthew. I could tell just by how badly he was shaking. "Please Gil," I said. He nodded and led me next to him.'

"Is he… going to be alvight?" he asked. I sat next to the Canadian on the bed, ignoring Gilbert for the moment. I felt slowly up his chest to his throat and face. I could feel a few scraps and bumps, but nothing real major. I held his face in my hands and rubbed slow circles into his temples.

"Mattie," I said softly. "Matthew." I felt his eyes flutter open. "Matthew, are you alright?" I asked. He groaned slightly and I heard movement behind and beside me. I stuck one of my hands out, signaling for them to stop. "Mattie."

"_," the teenager moaned. "I can't see." I quirked an eyebrow. He couldn't see?

"I'll get his extra pair of glasses. Hang on just a sec," Al said quickly. I heard him dart out.

"_," Matthew mumbled. I gently lowered a hand to his collar bone.

"Are you alright?" I asked again. He nodded but I could feel him wincing. "Where's it hurt?"

"My… my stomach… they hit me a couple of times," he muttered, clenching his teeth. "They… hit my jaw, too." I looked over my shoulder and felt my glasses slid down my nose.

"Antonio, go get an ice pack for his mouth. I don't want it to swell." I said, running a hand down his shirt. I listened as the Spaniard hurried out of the room. I groaned loudly as I felt buttons down the Canadians shirt. I fumbled with them for a moment before cursing under my breath. I heard Matthew chuckle softly and I couldn't help but grin.

"Dang it! Somebody undo these for me!" I said, removing my fingers frustratedly. Someone came up behind me and began undoing the small buttons. Whoever it was smelled like rainwater and tea.

"Here love," Arthur said. He grabbed my wrist and placed them back on Matthew chest. The Canadian felt small in stature, and probably looked that way to most people, but he was anything but. He was lithe and muscular. He had gained all that muscle from hockey, but didn't know how to use it to fight.

"Thank you," I replied. Arthur helped me shrug him out of the shirt and I felt for the hem of his tank top. I could feel how cool my fingers were against his abdomen. "Tell me if it hurts," I instructed. I gingerly kneaded my fingers into his sides and abdomen. I felt him flinch.

"There," he grunted. I nodded and called over my shoulder, not once removing my fingers.

"Francis," I said, "come here. Arthur, go find Al and Toni." I heard footsteps hurrying out of the room.

"Oui _?" I heard Francis behind me.

"Where my fingers are, is there any discoloration?" I asked. He contemplated a moment before answer.

"Oui, zere are bruises, but it doesn't look like anyzing too bad," he replied. I sighed in relief.

"There's no red or purple?" I inquired, just to make sure.

"Non, just bluish brown." I nodded. That was good, there was no internal bleeding. I hadn't expected any. From what I'd been told, there wasn't much to worry about, but I figured I might as well check. I heard scuffling behind me and the announcement of Alfred with his brother's glasses and Antonio with the ice pack. I went to push away from Matthew and accidently pushed on his stomach.

"Ow ow ow!" Matthew cried. I gasped as I was gripped at the shoulder and shoved back. I nearly tumbled to the floor but thankfully Francis caught me.

"Gilbert!" he reprimanded, "she didn't mean it." He pulled me to my feet and held me close. I heard the Prussian murmuring softly to Matthew as I buried my face in Francis' chest.

"I-I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I didn't mean to hurt him." I heard a gentle sigh and soothing sounds.

"It's alright _. Gilbert knows that, he just over reacts sometimes," Matthew told me. I nodded and looked up randomly.

"Antonio, do you have the ice?" I asked

"Sí señorita. He already has it," he told me. I nodded and leaned into Francis. We were all quiet for a minute before Matthew said he wanted to talk to Alfred. Gilbert was hesitant but finally agreed. We all filed out and left the twins to talk. I could tell they needed it, even if I couldn't see, I could tell. Francis wrapped an arm around me as we left the brothers to talk by themselves for a while.

Francis helped _ down the stairs and the small group entered a small library and sat down.

"Where's their dad?" _ asked as Francis sat them down on a plush sofa.

"He usually works late," Arthur explained as he sat to their left on an arm chair. "He helps manufacture mechanical parts for different airplane companies." _ nodded, rubbing her head.

"Alright," she said, leaning into Francis and resting her head on his shoulder. They all sat quietly before Gilbert spoke up.

"I'm sorry for shoving you _," he said. "I just… I…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say. She smiled knowingly.

"It's alright. I understand," she told him. "I know how you feel." She blushed as she thought about how worried she'd been about Francis when Alfred had come to get her. They listened as footsteps made their way downstairs and into the room we were in.

"Is he asleep amigo?" Antonio asked from his spot on the short couch across from Francis and _.

"Yea, for now," Alfred replied. He walked over and sat down heavily on the floor. He set down in front of Arthur and let the Brit play absentmindedly with his hair. "He's just really tired and shaken up. He said his stomach hurts but besides that he was alright."

"If you give him some ibuprofen it should help the pain and any swelling in his jaw," _ supplied helpfully. Alfred looked at her and nodded his head.

"Thank ya. I'll be sure to take him some," the American said softly, leaning back against Arthur's legs. They were quiet for a little while, everyone not sure really what to say. Eventually, Antonio broke the silence and spoke up.

"Well, mi amigos, I had best be going. I have to get home. I don't want mi padre to have to deal with Lovi and Feliciano by himself," he told the group. _ looked up.

"Who?" she asked curiously. Antonio stood up chuckling.

"Lovino and Feliciano Vargas. They're my cousins from Italy. They've come to visit for the week. Tomorrow we'll go to my place and you can meet them," he told her. Gilbert and Arthur snorted.

"I'm not sure you _want_ to meet them love," the Englishman said sarcastically. _ giggled and looked at him.

"They can't be that bad," she said. Francis laughed and kissed her cheek.

"Zey're pretty bad," he replied. Antonio laughed and walked towards the door.

"Hasta luego mi amigos. Mi casa mañana," he said and walked out the door. They all laughed lightly and then Alfred looked up suddenly at _.

"I'm so sorry _. I haven't been a proper host. Do you want anything?" he asked, starting to get up. She shook her head quickly.

"No, no. I'm good, thank you though," she replied. She didn't want Alfred to do more than he had to. "I might later, but I'm good for right now." The teenager sat back down and laid against Arthur's shins.

They sat and talked quietly for a little while before light footsteps caught their attention. They all looked up and saw Matthew stumbling down the stairs.

"Matzew!" Gilbert cried. He immediately jumped up, followed closely by Alfred and rushed to the Canadian's side.

"I'm fine guys, honestly," he protested softly. They wouldn't hear it though and walked him back upstairs.

"I'm guessing we should probably go," _ said, standing up shakily and Francis followed suit. Arthur sighed but stood as well.

"You don't have to, but they'll be rather preoccupied with Matthew," he said. _ nodded and Francis wrapped an arm around her.

"Thank you for everything, and don't let Alfred forget about the ibuprofen," she told him. "We'll see you guys tomorrow." She waved and Francis led them out of the house.

I sighed, closing my eyes and let Francis help me out of the car. I rubbed my shoulder where Gilbert had grabbed me and shoved me backwards. Poor Gil, he must've been so worried. I rolled my shoulder and winced slightly.

"Are you alright ma chérie?" Francis asked as he walked me to my door. I nodded and tried the door knob. It was locked.

"Yea, my shoulder's kinda sore," I told him as I fumbled with my purse. I dug my hand around trying to find my keys. "Gilbert's got one heck of a grip," I said as I pulled out my house key. "Would you open the door?" I asked, holding out my key.

"Of course l'amour," he said and I heard him put the key in the lock and open the front door. "Would you mind letting me look at your shoulder?" he asked as I walked in, keeping close the wall. I dropped my bag in the sofa and listened to my stomach grumble.

"No I don't mind. Hang on a sec though," I said. It was a little too quiet and usually my dad left the door unlocked. I made my way into the kitchen and felt for the refrigerator. "Hey Francis, come here!" I called, pulling a piece of paper off the fridge door.

"Oui mon amour?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. I turned, holding out the paper.

"Does this say anything?" I inquired. He took the paper and read what it said.

"'I'll be 'ome real late. Food's in ze microwave," he said. I grinned and stumbled towards the microwave. "Is it like zis a lot?" Francis asked as I popped open the door and pulled out a McDonald's bag. I knew what it was by the smell.

"Yea," I replied, "when he knows he's gonna be late he'll leave a piece of paper on the fridge or leave a message on the answering machine." I unwrapped a hamburger and bit into it. "You get used to it," I said, swallowing my food. I continued eating until the Frenchman spoke up."

"It must by lonely," he said softly. I smiled, reaching out my hand as I set the wrappers of my now eaten food down. He grabbed it and I walked forward.

"It was, but then you decided to help me and now. Well, I'm not lonely anymore," I murmured, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. "Thank you." His arms encircled my small frame and he kissed my forehead.

"You're welcome l'amour," he whispered. I smiled and reached up, gently touching his face. I leaned up and kissed his cheek. I smiled and pulled away to open the refrigerator. I grabbed a jug at random and unscrewed the cap. I took a strong whiff; it was orange juice. I took a long pull from the container before putting the cap back on and setting it back in the fridge.

"Why did you…" he started, but trailed off slowly.

"I smell it so I can know what's in it. My sense of smell's a lot stronger now so I put it to good use," I told him grinning. I reached out for him again, brushing his arm gently. "Here, come with me," I said, tugging gently on his arm. I led him through the kitchen and living room, down the hall to my room. I could tell he was impressed that I could do this without my sight. I smiled at the warmth of my room as I opened the door. Winter was coming on and it got cold real quick where I lived. I always kept the heater running in my room because I hated the cold. I pulled my glasses off and set them on my dresser. I found my bed and told Francis to sit down. He did as he was told and I walked back out of my room across the hall.

"_!" Francis called.

"Stay put! I'm coming back," I said, walking into hall bathroom. I fumbled around a bit before I finally found what I was looking at. I grabbed it and walked back to my room.

"What's that for?" Francis asked as I sat down beside him. I rolled my eyes and opened the first aid kit.

"You, of course," I replied. "I'm not going to leave you a bloody mess." I felt around the box as tried to find antiseptic wipes. I felt tears prick at my eyes because I couldn't. I couldn't see and I was no use, once again. I sighed and felt something pressed into my hand.

"'Ere l'amour," he said. I reached up and gently felt for his forehead. I knew that the worst scratch was there. I felt dried blood under my fingers and lightly began rubbing with the wipe. He flinched as it stung slightly but besides that he stayed still. I finished cleaning the gash and carefully wiped down the rest of his face.

"Merci," Francis said. He reached up and cupped my cheek. I smiled and ran my fingers over his lip thoughtfully, feeling the gash in it.

"I'm sorry I can't do anything about your lip," I said, feeling tears at my eyes again. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

"You 'ave already done enough mon amour," he murmured. I felt him wrap an arm around my waist and start gently moving me. I lifted myself up and carefully moved the way he wanted me too. I finally realized I was sitting between his legs with my back pressed up against his chest. The contact was warm and comforting. I sighed as he nuzzled his nose against my neck.

"I just wish I could do more," I said, swallowing as he began kissing along my ear and throat. I felt him smile against my skin and he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I went to open my mouth but he finally rested his hands on my shoulders and I jerked away from the contact. My shoulder ached again.

"Mmm mon amour, let me look at your shoulder now," Francis murmured, gently tugging at the sleeve of my T-shirt. I nodded and grabbed the hem of my shirt and started to pull it off. "M-mon Dieu! W-what are you doing?!" he asked hurriedly. I turned slightly so I was facing him and quirked an eyebrow.

"You wanted to see my shoulder, right?" I asked. I wasn't shy by any means. After having to go to numerous exams and check-ups, psh this was nothing and it's not like I could see anything anyways. Francis was also the last person I expected to be embarrassed.

"O-oh yes, r-right?" he stumbled over his words. I smirked and reached back down for my shirt. I pulled it off, my shoulder chastising me mildly as I lifted my arms above my head. I was still wearing my sports bra so there wasn't much to see, just the lower half of my back and if I turned around my stomach. I heard a slight intake of breath and turned my head.

"Everything alright?" I asked as I tossed my shirt aside. He must have nodded because he gently ran his fingers across my shoulder. His long fingers were cool against my back. I waited a few minutes and he rubbed pleasant circles along my shoulders blades and back. "Is it bruised?" I asked.

"Oui," he replied, "zere are a few light bluish spots, but zey're not too bad. He didn't grab you too hard." I shook my head, agreeing with his statement. I leaned forward slightly, not really even caring about my shoulder anymore. Francis was rubbing my back and was releasing enormous amount of stress and tension from the tight muscles. I hummed lightly and heard him laugh.

"So," he started," you never got to tell me what zose girls were talking about," Francis said, changing the subject as he made his was back up to my shoulder to relieve some of the aching. I tensed, however, at the mention of the two girls, blood rushing to fill my cheeks.

"W-well," I stuttered nervously, sitting up and turning bodily towards the Frenchman, "they um… they were talking about… uh…" I wasn't exactly sure how to word it. "They were arguing," I managed. Francis chuckled, and it hit me. "You already know, don't you?" I said, crossing my arms and lifting my head to try and glare at him. I could glare pretty well when I had eyesight and being blind just made it more unsettling.

"Per'aps, mon amour," he whispered, running his fingers along my arms and down to my hands. I shivered as his breath landed on my face and throat.

"Um… C-can I tell you something?" I stammered. I felt his nose rub against mine I inhaled sharply.

"Oui ma chérie?" he said, running his other hand along my jaw and throat.

"T-that kiss, last night," I mumbled, more blood coming to flood my already over-heated cheeks, "it was my first." I could smell the rose perfume that he wore; I could sense how close he was. I looked down, taking a shaky breath.

"Did you like it?" he asked, lifting my face back up. I nodded, taking my hand and playing idly with his shirt. I never got this fidgety. "May I kiss you again?" I hadn't expected him to ask my permission, but I was kind of glad he did, and I did. I wanted him to kiss me again. I swallowed and nodded again. Almost immediately, his lips were on mine. I sighed at the contact and shyly wrapped my arms around his neck.

My heart raced in my chest as we kissed over and over. I had never been this close with anyone, and this kiss was nothing compared to last night. Fire danced along my lips and skin as we pressed against each other. I was trembling slightly as he ran a few fingers down my bare back. I sighed heavily and hugged him even closer. All my senses were hyperactive because I couldn't see anything. I could feel every hair that ran through my fingers; I could smell Francis' own sweet, yet musky scent under the layer or rose perfume. I was hyperaware of his hand resting lightly on my bare waist. I eventually had to pull back, but just enough to rest my forehead against his. I was gasping for air in the small between us.

"Whoa…" I mumbled, trying to fix the snapped synapses in my brain as I played with stray strands of hair near the base of the Frenchman's neck. I heard him chuckled and he pushed some of my hair behind my ear. "So," I thought a moment, looking down and gripping gently at his shirt, "are we… dating now?" He laughed, lifting my chin and kissed my nose.

"Do you want to be dating?" he asked. I blinked, unable to see anything and hating every second. I wanted to see his eyes, to see if he was simply playing with me or if he actually meant it. I nodded, but frowned a little.

"Why? Why would you want to go out with a handicap? I'm absolutely helpless and I'm not very pretty." I said, sighing tiredly. I was surprised as lips were pressed against mine again.

"'Ush! You are beautiful and amazing! You've led me around your 'ouse and you obviously know 'ow to make it to all your classes in school. I 'ave no doubt in my mind zat you could kick some serious butt if need be wiz your walking stick. I 'ave also never seen anyone as dazzling as you. You stand out amazingly well against ze dull background of people I've seen. You are very able and very, very pretty," he said, cupping my face with his hands. I blushed and blinked back tears.

"You… you mean that?" I asked softly. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"Oui mon amour, every word," he said. I smiled and hugged him. "So, we're dating?" he said. I nodded, pulling back to jump off the bed.

"Yep! I would definitely say so!" I grinned. "I didn't think I'd ever find my prince charming, I guess I just had to let him find me," I said, giggling as I searched for my shirt. Francis laughed too and asked what I was doing. "I kinda need my shirt. I wanna move this into the living room in case my dad comes home."

"Oh yea. Zat might be a good idea," he said. I could tell he was blushing at the thought of my father coming home and catching us. I found my shirt and led him back to the living room. I told him to pick a movie from the stack we kept by the TV as I plopped down on the sofa. He put one in and made his way back to me. And that's all we did until my dad came home. We watched movies, well I listened, and we talked. We did a bit of kissing, which personally, I thoroughly enjoyed. I eventually fell asleep against Francis, his arm wrapped protectively against me.

"_, I'm home," my dad said as he walked in the door. He looked around and saw me fast asleep in Francis' arms. "Well hello there. Is she out?" he asked; only half surprised to see the Frenchman.

"Oui monsieur," he replied, "she just fell asleep while we were watching movies." My daddy nodded and dropped his bags in an arm chair.

"That's what usually happens when I come home late. She's asleep on the sofa with the television still going." He walked over, a smirk tugging on his lips. "Would you mind getting her to her room?" he asked, tuning to shut the television off. Francis nodded, carefully detaching himself from my grip. He stood up and picked me up bridal style. He carried me to my room and laid me on my bed. He bent down, pressed a tender kiss to my forehead and walked out, turning the light out as he went.

"So you two official yet?" my father asked as Francis walked back into the living room. A teasing smile graced his features and the Frenchman grinned and nodded in reply.

"Yes sir. I 'ope zat's alright wiz you," he said as my father motioned for him to follow him into the kitchen.

"It's perfectly fine by me, as long as you treat her right. She's special and she may not look or act like it, but she's fragile. She needs a man who's gonna stay by her no matter what and will care for her. I know she thought she didn't have a hope of having a future after losing her eye sight, but you just happen to stumble in. She's been happier these past two days then I've seen her in months. You've brought light and happiness back into her life. Thank you," my father said, smiling at Francis. His speech though the teenager and he thought about what he'd said.

"I can do zat, and I swear I would never do anyzing to 'urt 'er. She is sweet and talented and amazing. I 'ave never met anyone like 'er," he told my father. The man smiled and patted Francis' shoulder.

"I trust you. Thank you for everything," he said. Francis smiled and shook my father's hand.

"De rien. Zank you for allowing me to date _," he replied as he was led back to the living room.

"No problem. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon too then?" my dad said, opening the front door.

"I believe so, yes sir," Francis said. My daddy grinned and nodded his head.

"Alright then, I look forward to seeing you. Good night Francis."

"Bonne nuit Mr. _ (l/n) See you tomorrow," he said and walked out of my house to his car. He sighed happily as he jumped in. _Best night ever!_


	5. A Question and a Desicion

And that's pretty much how my life started. Francis and I had officially started dating. We told the guys a few days after and they were more than overjoyed. Matthew was alright, he was just shaken up for the next few days, but he got through it alright. Needless to say, Matthew hasn't been messed with since.

We all hung out every day after school. I got to meet Antonio's cousins, the Vargas twins. Feliciano was absolutely adorable and so sweet. His twin… not so much. Lovino was loud, had a bit of a mouth on him and didn't like anyone very much except for his twin and Antonio.

I eventually was able to meet most of the guy's parents. Alfred's father was a very nice, southernly gentleman. He treated me practically like family. I found out he didn't really approve of Alfred and Matthew's relationships with Arthur and Gilbert, but he supported them none the less. He was very kind and thought nothing about me being handicapped.

I met Antonio's father and he was funny and very sweet. I learned that his wife died of a heart attack when Antonio was still in elementary school. The man was one heck of a cook as well. We normally ended up at the Spaniard's house for supper unless Alfred was dying to have hamburgers. He was entertaining and a lot of fun to hand out with if he was around when we all visited.

Arthur's mother was a widow; her husband had died in a plane crash. She and Arthur had come to America when Arthur was nothing but a baby. Her husband couldn't make it on the same flight with her, but he promised to be on the next one out. The flight didn't make it however, and she was left alone with little Arthur.

She made it though, and was able to raise Arthur on her own. He'd had to grow up a little faster than most kids, but he'd been alright. He'd rebelled when he was in middle school, trying to go punk, but then he met Alfred and his brother. He'd cleaned up his act and was now the proper gentleman.

Mrs. Kirkland was a kind, quiet and gentle lady. She was excited when she found out that there was actually a girl in the boys little group now. She'd greeted me with such enthusiasm I'd doubted what Arthur had said about her being quiet.

Gilbert's family was a little different. His father was, quiet obviously, a drunk. The smell of stale alcohol just lingered around him. Gilbert told me, seeing as the others already knew, that his dad stayed out late, came home drunk, woke up the next morning to eat, and did it all over again. Mrs. Beilschmidt was a sweet lady who 'looked' too old for her age. She was in her late thirties and had to work three jobs just to keep her sons fed. I felt sorry for the family, but Gilbert told me not to worry.

Ludwig, Gilbert's younger brother by about a year, was… for lack of a better word, huge. He was taller than his brother and had loads more muscle. From what I could tell, he was bigger than Alfred. He had stern face and I was told he had platinum blonde hair that was always slicked back and startling, ice blue eyes. He had broad shoulders and a thick, sinewy chest.

All the boys were guffawing at the German's reaction. I couldn't really tell a lot, but I could definitely feel the extra heat radiating off his face. I thanked him and he mumbled a quick welcome. He seemed quiet, but I could sense that he was a really nice guy if you got to know him. Apparently, as Antonio told me, he had a crush on Feliciano who was only a year younger. Gilbert, being Gilbert, had stolen his diary and read it. They couldn't leave the poor guy alone now.

I finally got to meet Francis' mother. She was really sweet and seemed absolutely delighted to meet me. She had a thin face and 'looked' absolutely beautiful, but I noticed she had no resemblance to her son. I realized he must've gotten his looks from his father. She eventually was able to get me by myself by telling Francis to invite the guys over.

"_, I simply cannot zank you enough dear," she said, helping me sit on the couch. "I don't know what you've done, but Francis… I can't even describe it. 'E's 'appy. I know 'e 'as 'is 'guys', and zat zey mess around and 'ave fun, but you… You're somezing special. You're fixing 'im," she told me happily. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusing. Fixing him?

"Um, what… what do you mean, fixing him?" I asked. Francis didn't seem 'broken' to me. He was funny and sweet and romantic. He seemed alright to me. I heard the Frenchman's mother sigh and she grabbed my hands.

"Francis 'asn't said anyzing about 'is fazer 'as 'e?" she asked, making it sound more like a statement. I shook my head, confused. "My 'usband left when Francis was in fifz grade. 'E didn't know why 'is papa 'ad left, 'e only knew zat 'e was gone. Antonio was so much 'elp, 'e was always zere for Francis," she said. Her voice was shaking, so I knew she had to be close to crying.

"Mrs. Bonnefoy," I said, tightening my grip on her thin hands.

"It's alright dear. I'm alright now. It took a long time, but I'm finally okay again. Francis zough, mon petite garçon **(My little boy)**… he was so furious when 'is papa left. I didn't zink 'e'd ever be ze same, I 'ate to bring it up, but I presume you know what Francis did in school for quite a while before 'e met you?" she questioned. She meant his sleeping around with other girls. He was quite infamous for it and that's why all the girls at school fawned over him. They'd do anything for a chance to sleep with the popular Francis Bonnefoy. I simply nodded in reply.

"I believe 'e did what 'e did to try and fill ze 'ole zat 'is papa left. You, dear, you've started to 'eal 'im. I 'onestly can't zank you enough," she told me. I smiled weakly, wiping at the tears running down my cheeks. I'd never known…

"I… I had no idea. I-I'm glad I can help," I managed. I had no idea what to say. I was at a complete loss for words. My next sentence was interrupted by shouts and loud thumps.

"Zere 'ere!" Francis called from somewhere in the house. I heard his mother laugh and yell something in French in reply.

"Alright dear. I'll leave you to ze mercy of ze boys. Zank you again," she said. I felt her get up and walk away. Moments later, I was bouncing on the sofa and being jostled around. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the movement to stop. My eyes snapped open, however, when I felt two arms encircle my waist and pull me into a lap.

"'Ello zere l'amour," a heavy French accent murmured in my ear. I yelped slightly in surprised and sighed.

"You boys are gonna give me a heart attack," I said, leaning back against Francis. I heard them all laugh.

"Lo siento chica! It's just so much to sneak up on you," Antonio said, sitting down in front of me.

"Ja, und it's kinda fun to watch you freak out," Gilbert added. I rolled my eyes.

"Yea, yea. Pick on the blind," I said teasingly, grinning and sticking my tongue out. they all chuckled and settle down a little. "Sooo," I said, "what do you guys want to do?" I asked. I was surprised as I was slid carefully out of Francis' lap and back onto the couch.

"Video games!" Alfred shouted and there was a lot more yelling and bouncing around as I guess the guys jumped over the furniture. I curled up slightly, trying to avoid getting hit until everything calmed down.

"Are you alright there love?" I looked up in the general direction of Arthur's voice.

"Arthur?" I said, reaching out a hand for him to take. He grabbed it and pulled me to my feet.

"Yea, and Matthew. We prefer not to act like heathens," he replied dryly. I giggled as I held his arm and let him lead me down a set of stairs. "Here Matthew, take and set her by Francis. I'll be right back," he said. I was switched between the two men and I heard Arthur run back upstairs.

"What was that about?" I asked the Canadian. I felt him shrug as we walked into a large room where loud shouts and gun shots were going off.

"Who knows. Arthur gets kind of flighty sometimes," he replied and I could sense the eye roll. I giggled as he guided me around furniture. "This is there 'game room'. Francis, Antonio, Al and Gil come down here on weekend and play video games until they pass out. Arthur and I usually just watch," he informed me.

"That's because you're lame Mattie!" Alfred called. I heard someone smack him on the back of the head.

"He is not lame. Just because you are a complete doofus and he's not," I heard Arthur reprimand. I laughed for a moment before squealing as I was yanked away from Matthew and into someone's lap yet again.

"You'd think I'd be used to this by now," I muttered, gaining a laugh from the Frenchman I was sitting on.

"Désolé **(sorry)** ma chérie. I was simply longing for some company," Francis said as he reached his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Mhm, I bet," I muttered, running fingers along his arms. All the teenagers laughed and went back to their game as I settled into Francis' arms. I could feel every time one of the boys jumped off the couch or began leaping about like a lunatic. They eventually cut the game off and resolved to watching cartoons. Mrs. Bonnefoy brought down food occasionally, much to the happiness of all the boys. They all had to go as it got late, since we unfortunately had school the next day.

That left me and Francis downstairs alone for the time being. He had stretched out on the sofa and I'd laid on top of him. I rested my head on his chest as he scratched my back. I smiled and listened to the easy beating of his heart, the rhythmic up and down of his chest as he breathed.

"_," Francis spoke up softly. I turned my head so I was facing him. I traced lazy circles along his collarbone as I looked towards him.

"Mhm?" I replied, closing my tired eyes, relishing the feel of not having to wear my glasses. I tended to take my glasses off a lot more now. My eyes didn't have to be hidden around these guys, and it… it was nice.

"If you could 'ave one zing, anyzing in ze world, what would it be?" he asked carefully. I raised my eyebrows at the question, slightly surprised. I moved carefully so I was still laying on Francis, but it was so my back was pressed against his stomach.

"Anything?" I asked, folding my hands over my stomach. I smiled as he stoked my cheek. I thought about the question and he draped his arms over mine.

"Oui. Anyzing," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. I thought about it, racking my brain for the answer. So much clouded my head as I thought about it.

"I know the good, right answer would be my mother. I miss her and I loved her dearly and I still do, but… I can't even remember what she looks like. To be honest. I can barely remember what my dad looks like," I said, trying to ignore the contracting feeling in my throat. "But… if my mama hadn't of passed, I wouldn't be so close with my dad. I wouldn't know you," I whispered, turning and burying my nose into the crook of his neck. "I'd still be sitting at that lunch table all by myself, wondering when my life was going to go somewhere."

"Mon amour," Francis said gently. I shook my head, sniffling slightly. I felt him wipe at the tears falling silently from my dull, useless eyes.

"If… if I'm being completely honest here. I want my sight back. I want to be able to see the world around me again and not have to a_lways_ rely on others. I want to see things and places. People," I mumbled. I reached out and touched Francis' cheek. I cupped the side of his face and choked back a sob. "I want… to see you," I told him, wishing at that moment for a miracle. For my sight to just come back to me. To see all the details I would only feel with my fingers.

"_," Francis cried as I collapsed against him. "Mon ange **(my angel)**, everyzing is alright. Shh mon amour," he whispered soothingly, rubbing circles against my back as I sobbed against him, releasing all my pent up emotion. I'd been holding it in for so long, even before I lost my sight. I'd never been able to cry after my mother died. I'd had my pillow, but my father was having to cope with loss as well. I'd had to become a big girl faster than most. I'd always been alone, always had my walls to close me off. I didn't think anyone would break them down as easily as Francis had.

"Francis, I miss her," I whimpered. "I miss her so, so much." The Frenchman continued humming in my ear and rubbing my back. I let his voice sooth and calm me down. I slowly stopped shaking and started to try to compose myself.

"_, ma chérie? Are you alright?" Francis asked as I finally stopped crying. I nodded, wiping my nose. I buried my face into Francis' chest, clutching his shirt.

"Mhm. I'm sorry," I blubbered, trying to keep my tears under control. He tilted my head up so he could look at me. I stared blankly ahead.

"It's alright chérie. I understand." He paused a moment, thinking about something. "I know it 'asn't been very long, and zis probably isn't ze best time, but… may I tell you somezing?" he questioned, his heart starting to pound in his chest. I noticed and blinked in confusion. I nodded, signaling for him to go on. "Je t'aime." I stopped breathing. I was dead. I had to be. There was no way he just…

"Y-you… you love me?" I asked, trying to get air back into my lungs. I didn't even give him time to answer. "I love you too Francis," I said and gasped as his lips crushed mine. I couldn't believe I said that. It was true though, I realized it was a soon as I said it, but… I said it, and he loved me back. I pushed myself up, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Zank you _," Francis said as he pulled away. I blinked at him and ran my fingers along his face.

"For what?" I asked quietly, rubbing my nose against his.

"Everyzing," he mumbled and pulled me in for another kiss. I could guess what he was talking about, but let it go. He was here for me and I was here for him, and that was all that mattered. We stayed downstairs a little longer, talking and kissing before I finally had to go. I said goodbye to Mrs. Bonnefoy and hugged her before Francis drove me home.

"Is my dad home?" I asked as he pulled into the drive and shut the car off.

"Oui," Francis said. I turned my head and smiled as he brushed some hair behind my ear.

"Thanks for everything," I said, "I've never… opened up to anyone." I wiped my eyes, feeling tears running down my cheek. "Did… do you really mean what you said?" I inquired, lowering my head and rubbing my arm.

"What? Zat I love you?" he replied, scooting closer. I nodded and blushed bright red. Francis grabbed my wrist and pulled it forward until it met the warm skin of his chest. I could feel his hear beat underneath my palm. "You feel zat? You are what's keeping my 'eart beating now. I didn't zink anyone could make me feel like zis. I was empty and broken and zen you came along ma chérie," he murmured. I took a sharp intake of breath as I was pulled against him then relaxed. "I do love you _. I swear," he whispered, begging me to believe him. I smiled into the crook of his neck.

"I love you too Francis," I murmured, running my fingers up to cup his face. "You know my dad'll start to worry," I said, running my nose along his jawline. I felt him shiver just a little.

"'E knows you're in capable hands," he breathed, wrapping his arms around me. I snorted softly and kissed around his chin and mouth. "What?" he asked, tilting his head down to look at me.

"Capable hands," I giggled, "yea right." Before he could protest, I covered his mouth with my own. We melded together and I sighed against him. I jumped slightly as I felt his tongue slide around my bottom lip. He chuckled and pulled back slightly.

"We can do zat later," he murmured, sending chills down my spine. I blushed and shivered as a strong wind blew through the car. "Come mon amour. Let's get you inside before you catch cold," he said. I heard his car door open and slam close and his light footsteps as he walked around to help me.

"Thank you," I said as he opened my door. I grabbed my bags and held out my arm. He gently grabbed it and helped me out of the vehicle.

"De rien, mademoiselle," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. I set my arm in the crook of his elbow and followed him.

"Thank you again for everything," I said, resting my head on his shoulder. He turned his head and kissed my forehead.

"And zank you ma chérie," he replied. I grinned and leaned into the Frenchman. "'Ere we are." I felt around and grabbed the doorknob. I turned and hoped I was looking at him.

"I love you," I sang softly, leaning forward. His warm hand cupped my chin and I giggled. He blew gently in my face.

"Je t'aime aussi," he whispered and kissed me softly. I smiled and pulled back to rest my forehead against his own. "I'll see you tomorrow, oui?" I nodded and ran my fingers over his face, lingering over his eyelids.

"Oui," I breathed and pulled away completely. "See you honey." I grinned and opened the door.

"Au revoir l'amour. Je t'aime." I heard him and giggled as I walked inside. I was _never_ going to get tired of that.

"Toni," Francis said into his phone as he drove down the highway. The cold wind blew around him, keeping him awake.

"Hey Frenchie, what's up?" the Spaniard replied happily. Francis smiled . _Happy-go-lucky Toni. He never changes._

"I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at ze park we played at when we were little?" he asked Antonio, trying to keep his head clear. He had to focus right now. He had made his decision; he just needed help if he were to go through with it.

"Of course mi amigo! I'll be there as soon as I can!" he replied and hung up quickly. Francis did the same and wiped under his eyes. He drove as fast as he could without breaking the law. His mother would shoot him if the police called her because of him. He could see another car pulling up and knew it was Antonio. He pulled up and parked his car.

"Toni!" he called, hoping out of the vehicle. Antonio grinned as he opened the car door and climbed out.

"Mi amigo! What's the problem?" he inquired, knowing his friend well enough to know something was the matter for him to call so suddenly. He walked over and pulled his friend into a hug. He could feel Francis trembling ever so slightly. He pulled back and he could see tears trailing down the Frenchman's face.

"I… I've zought about it and zought about it and I asked 'er," he said, clenching his fingers. "I'm going to France Toni, and I don't zink I can do it alone." He looked up pleadingly into his friends green eyes. Antonio gave a small smile and nodded.

"I would be more than happy to accompany you on your trip mi amigo," he replied. "When do we leave?" Francis sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I'm not sure yet. I've got to talk to my mozer and let _ know I'll be gone for a little while. Don't tell 'er what I'm doing, I 'ave to ask 'im first," he replied. He took a deep breath. "Toni… I… I 'aven't talked to ze man in years. What if 'e doesn't 'elp?" he asked. He looked at Antonio, begging silently for reassurance. The Spaniard once again pulled Francis into a hug.

"He'll help Francis. You're his son. Even after everything that's happened, he can't turn you away," he said. He will help Francis. I know he will." Francis shook silently with sobs as Antonio tried to reassure him. He'd pushed all this down when he was little and refused to let it come back up. Why now, all of the sudden? The Frenchman calmed down slowly and pulled back to wipe his eyes.

"Z-zank you, Antonio. I just… I'm so worried," he said, looking down and running a hand through his hair. Antonio held Francis' shoulders and made him look at him.

"Try not to worry about it right now," he instructed. "We'll figure it out together and work it out then, alright?" Francis looked at his best friend and gave a small smile.

"Out, later. Merci Toni," he said, leaning back against his car. Antonio chuckled and sat on the hood of his car.

"De nada."

It got a lot colder as time went by. It was a few months or so and we all grew closer. They finally talked me into letting them come over and meet my dad. It was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. I could just imagine the look one my father's face as the five boys traipsed through the house. I knew my dad was baffled, but he got over his shock soon enough. It was entertaining to say the least.

"_." I looked up from the book I was trying to read. No, my eyes weren't skimming the pages, my fingers were. Francis had insisted I tried taking up braille so I could read again. It was really hard at first, but all the guys, especially Francis, helped me out.

"Yea Frenchie?" I asked, setting the small book aside. I heard him chuckle and then get up. I listened intently, trying to find out where he was. I jumped when his hand touched my cheek.

"Désolé," he said, smiling. I felt the sofa sink where he sat next to me. "I need to tell you somezing mon amour." I tilted my head to the side as I waited for him to continue. "I'm 'aving to leave for a little while." My eyes widened and I blinked simply out of shock. My jaw was slack and I reached out numbly for him.

"B-but… but what will I do?" I asked. He couldn't leave, I wouldn't be able to stand it. "I don't want to be alone again," I almost whimpered as I found his shirt. He pulled me close and I leaned into his chest. I felt the tears starting to fall from my eyes.

"Shh mon amour. It's okay. I'm not leaving for good. I just 'ave to go 'ome for a little while. I'm going to come back," he said, holding me close and rocking us back and forth.

"P-promise?" I stammered, pulling away to wipe my eyes. He cupped my face in his large hand and thumbed away my tears.

"Promesse," he murmured, kissing my cheeks, nose and eyes. "I'm not ever going to leave you for good. I just 'ave some personal business I need to take of in Francis and zen I'll be right back 'ere in your arms, alright?" he said, pressing his cheek to my forehead. I nodded and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Okay, I'm going to miss you though," I replied, nuzzling into his neck. He sighed and leaned back into the couch, pulling me with him.

"I know, but I shouldn't be gone for more zan a month. I'll be quick. You trust me don't you?" he teased, pecking my nose. I giggled softly and nodded.

"Of course I do silly. It'll just be hell without you here," I said. He nodded his head understandingly. "Mmm, I love you Francis." I felt him smile against my forehead.

"Je t'aime aussi _. Je t'aime aussi."


	6. A Request

"Je t'aime ma chérie. I promise I will come 'ome as soon as I'm finished. I might even 'ave a surprise for you," Francis said, pushing my hair behind my ear. I swallowed and tried to press my lips together to keep them from quivering. I was already shivering from the cold in my jacket and the tears weren't helping any.

"F-Francis," I stammered, reaching up for his face, "do you have to go?" I asked, running my fingertips along his cheekbones and nose. I felt him nod his head and I bit my lip so hard it drew blood.

"Hey now, don't do zat," he said, reaching up with his thumb to wipe the few drops of blood away, "I'm ze only one allowed to abuse your lips like zat." I gave a half laugh half cry and tears slipped out of my eyes as I did. "Don't cry mon amour. I promise I won't be gone longer zan a month but I shouldn't be much longer zan two and a 'alf weeks," he soothed, pressing kisses to my blind eyes and injured lip. I nodded, unable to open my mouth without bursting into tears, and threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder.

"P-please be careful and c-come home quickly," I begged softly, clutching at his neck as if it were a life line. His arms wrapped around my waist and he hugged me close. "I love you Francis." He pulled back and I felt a finger running along the skin around my eyes.

"Je t'aime aussi. Don't worry _, I'm not leaving forever alright? Don't do anyzing reckless and stay wiz ze boys. S'il vous plait **(Please)**," he said, pressing my forehead to his. I nodded and leaned forward for a kiss. He met my lips and I could taste the tears running down my cheeks.

I couldn't hear anything except for our breathing. I couldn't sense anything but Francis. I tried to imagine him, what he looked like. His blue eyes like stars, his long, silky blonde hair. He was far too perfect for me to even try to imagine.

"I 'ave to go now," he whispered as he pulled away from me, out of my grasp. I couldn't reply through my constricted throat and simply nodded.

"Don't worry chica. I'll take good care of him," Antonio said, sneaking up behind me. I jumped and turned in his direction. I squeaked as he wrapped me in a hug and spun me around. "Adios mi amigos! Hasta luego!" And just like that, they were gone. All the sounds of the airport were overwhelming as I tried to will Francis back into my arms. I sniffed slightly and another pair of arms were pulling me into a hug.

"It'll be okay love, the frog'll be back soon," Arthur said, rubbing my arms gently. I wiped my eyes and nodded.

"Don't vorry frau. I know Frenchie and he'll be home as soon as he can. Until zen, you get to hang out viz us," Gilbert said, yanking me away from Arthur and pulling me into a bone crushing hug. I groaned by managed a shaky smile.

"Alright then! Operation 'Distract _(n/n)_ starts now!" Alfred said excitedly. I choked out a laughed and was pulled out of the airport.

Francis turned to watch his friends pull _ into a hug. His heart tugged and he almost ran back to her to wrap her in his arms and swear to never leave her again. A hand on his shoulder stopped him through. He turned and saw Antonio looking at him. His green eyes sparkled knowingly and Francis sighed.

"Don't worry mi amigo. They'll take care of her," the Spaniard said, pulling up into the airplane. Francis nodded and looked back once more as _ was taken out of the airport.

"Je t'aime ma chérie. Au revoir. Je vais me dépêcher maison aussi vite que je peux. S'il vous plaît être sûr. **(I love you my dear. Goodbye. I'll hurry home as fast as I can. Please be safe)**"

Nearly a week and a half passed and I spent almost all my time with the four guys that were still here. They stayed with me and kept me entertained at school. We hung out like usual after school. I was surrounded most of the time, but I still felt so lonely. I wished so desperately that Francis would come home.

He'd call me every night to check on me and see how I was doing. I would tell him about my day and then ask him when he was coming home. He still wouldn't tell me specifically what he was doing and simply said it was business. He told me he loved me and would wish me sweet dreams.

He was part of my every waking and sleeping thought. I thought about him more than my school work. I would sit and try to do my homework with Matthew or Arthur, but I just kept drifting away from the subject and would start daydreaming.

I came home late one evening after spending an eventful afternoon at Alfred and Matthew's house. It had started snowing and the guys had an absolutely ball. Gilbert dropped me off and helped me to the door. He said goodnight and I was left alone. I walked inside and knew my dad wasn't home yet. I made my way to the kitchen to find a snack.

I wandered back to the living room with my animal crackers and popped in a dvd. I sat listening to Mamma Mia for about thirty minutes before the house phone rang. It was rare for someone to call the house so I listened and followed the ringing and was able to procure the phone.

"Hello?" I said, scratching my nose with my free hand as I leaned against the wall.

"_?" a voice ask gently. I quirked an eyebrow at the tone of voice but shrugged it off.

"Yes, this is _. Who is this?" I inquired, feeling my way back to the living room.

"My name is Shelly Allen. _, I need you to come to the hospital," she replied evenly.

"The hospital?" I asked hurriedly, a million horrible thoughts immediately swimming through my head.

"Yes dear, your father's been in a car accident." My heart stopped at this and yet blood continued to pound through my ears. My breath was caught in my throat and I struggled for air.

"A-accident?" I choked, crashing to my knees. I didn't even acknowledge the pain spreading through my legs as I struggled for words. "W-what… how bad is he? Is he alive? God, please tell me he's alive," I begged, clutching the phone to the side of my head.

"Shh, yes _, he's alive but he's seriously injured. Can you get to the hospital?" I swallowed at the question and struggled to form words. The question in it of itself implied that she possibly knew about my sight.

"Y-yes ma'am," I managed to find words. She told me to come as fast as I could and hung up. I dropped the house phone and fumbled about the living room for my cell phone. I finally found it sitting on the sofa and dialed Gilbert's number as fast as my shaking finger would allow.

"Hallo? _?" the Prussian answered the phone and I closed my eyes with relief.

"Gil. I need you to come back and take me to the hospital. Please," I pleaded, crawling up onto the couch and falling limp against the cushions. I'd become so disorientated and dizzy I had to lay as still as possible as I could.

"Vhat's vrong? Are you hurt?" he asked quickly. I swallowed and shook my head.

"N-no, but the hospital just called and said my dad was in a car crash. I have to get to the hospital now. Can you please come take me?" I held back the whimper that threatened to escape my throat.

"Ja, I'll be zere in a minute." He hung up and I buried my face into one of the sofa pillows. I tried to control my breathing and held tight to my phone. I just laid there in a numbed state until Gilbert knocked on the door. He picked me up and drove me to the hospital. I could tell he was close to speeding if he wasn't already. We pulled into the parking lot and I practically tripped out of the car.

He rushed to my side and helped me walk into the building. He guided me forward, never loosening his grip on me. I was surprised when he stopped suddenly. I looked up at Gilbert but he hugged me closer to him.

"Hello, Miss _(l/n)_ I presume. I'm Shelly, I know you probably want to see your father but he's in surgery right now," she told me, resting a hand on my shoulder. I gulped and reached up to wipe my eyes as tears spilled over. "Why don't you and your friend go sit and I'll have someone come get you when you can see him?" I nodded and my knees buckled once again on me.

"Vhoa zere 's okay," Gilbert said as he held me up. The nurse bid us farewell and Gilbert helped drag me to a chair. I collapsed against him completely and sobbed as he finally sat us down. "Shh _, it's alvight," he murmured quietly, rocking us back and forth gently. I tried fumbling through my tears and my shaking for my phone before giving up and looking towards Gilbert.

"G-Gil, can you g-grab my phone?" I asked, trying to control my hiccuppy sobs. He fingers slipped quickly into my pocket and pulled my phone out.

"Here, vhat's it for?" he asked, I shook my head and dialed Francis' number. More tears ran down my face as the phone continued to ring and eventually went to his voicemail. I hung up, barely able to breath.

"H-he d-d-didn't answer," he mumbled, dropping my phone in my lap. Gilbert's arm wrapped around my shoulder and squeezed.

"I'll call Toni. It's okay _. He's probably just busy," he soothed. I could feel him pulling his own phone out of his pocket and hold it to his ear.

"Hey! Toni! Vhere's Frenchie? I gotta talk to him," Gilbert said. I reached up carefully to try to feel his expression as he listened to his friend. His countenance stayed rather normal and I yelped when he licked my fingers.

"Gil!" He pressed a finger to my lips to keep me quiet and I rolled my eyes, almost forgetting about my situation.

"Alvight. Vhen he gets done tell him to call. Zere's a… slight problem," he said. "Nein, she's okay, just tell him to call." He waited for Antonio to finish and hung up.

"W-what's wrong?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"He's just talking to someone very important vight now. Toni said he'd tell him to call vhen he vas done." I nodded, swallowing thickly. I took a shuddering breathe and buried my face in my hands.

"Gil. I… I w-won't have anywhere t-to go. He's the only family I have left," I cried softly. Gilbert rubbed my back as I bawled, whispering softly in German. I knew the Prussian was trying to help and be a comfort, but it just didn't feel the same. I wish that it was Francis holding me in his arms, telling me everything would be okay. I'm not sure how long we sat there, my crying into Gilbert's shoulder as he held me, but Francis still hadn't called when a nurse walked up to us. Her shoes made a distinctive thumping sound against the floor.

"_?" she asked softly, almost timidly. I looked up, sighing heavily as my glasses sipped down my nose. This wasn't Shelly; most likely an intern or something to sound so shy.

"Yes ma'am?" I asked, leaning heavily onto Gilbert as he unwound his arm from around me.

"You can see your father now. Oh… I mean…um," she said, stumbling over her words as she caught herself. I gave a small smile and shook my head. After a few weeks you get used to it.

"It's okay. Can you show us to his room?" I asked. She must have nodded because Gilbert grabbed my arm and helped me up. I was lead down the hall, tears still slipping underneath my glasses and down my cheeks.

"So are you two dating?" the woman asked politely, trying to make conversation to cover up with the mishap with my sight. I almost laughed as she asked about me and Gilbert.

"No ma'am. He's just good friend of my boyfriend's. He's in France right now," I said, reaching up to touch Gilbert's face. I could feel it burning underneath my fingers as he blushed at the comment.

"Ah, well, I hope he's doing well. He's right in here." She finished awkwardly and walked off quickly. I giggled tiredly and shook my head. That poor woman just wanted to get away. Gilbert pulled me into a cool room and I swallowed.

"G-Gil. How does he look?" I asked, my voice quivering. Gilbert took a deep breath as he looked at my dad for me.

"His face is scraped up a bit. His vight arm is in a cast und his vight ankle is bandaged," he told me, "it looks like his left arm might be burned a little too." I tried to walk forward, but my legs felt like goo and I almost fell. Gilbert held me up long enough to set me in a chair.

"Gil!" I gasped, trying to breathe as I struggled for air through my tears. I was reaching forward for something, anything to latch onto. A cool hand slipped into my own and fingers wiped my cheek.

"Calm down _. You're going to hyperventilate und choke if you don't," the Prussian instructed. I swallowed and nodded my head, trying to control my breathing. "Gut. I don't vant Francis kicking my head in for letting you put yourself in ze hospital." I gave a half laugh and wiped my eyes.

"He wouldn't do that," I said weakly. I knew Gilbert was about to wittingly respond when my phone went off. I nearly jumped out of my skin as it almost gave me a heart attack. I struggled with the object for a moment before opening and pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"_ mon amour. Are you alright? What's wrong?" Francis asked hurriedly into the phone. I managed a chuckle as he started speaking rapid French on the other line.

"Francis, sweetheart, calm down. I'm alright, I promise. It's not me," I said, trying to sooth my boyfriend in my own depressed and shaken state. "M-my daddy was in a car accident. I-I n-need you Frenchie, p-please," I begged quietly, wishing he would come back and hold me tight and tell me everything's going to be alright.

"I'll be on a plane back 'ome tomorrow. I'll be zere as soon as I can ma chérie," he said. My heart soared at this but I still started crying as I tried to take a shaky breath.

"Please h-hurry," I practically whimpered into the receiver. Francis shushed me gently and I could almost feel his breath washing over my cheek.

"Shh mon amour, everyzing will be alright. I'll see you soon, oui?" he said. I nodded and rubbed my eyes.

"Oui," I said tiredly, no zest in my voice.

"Je t'aime _. Everyzing's going to be alright. I'll be 'ome in no time. I swear," he said. I swallowed before answering quietly.

"I love you too Francis. Hurry," I mumbled, closing my aching eyes and sniffling. The line went dead and I shut my phone. I dropped my head into my hands and felt myself growing more exhausted by the second. "Gil," I muttered thickly. I felt myself being turned sideways and my head was in a lap.

"Sleep frau. You need it. He'll still be here vhen you vake up, Francis'll be home later. Sleep." I did as I was told and let my eyes slip closed, letting the darkness take me.

Francis was sitting next to Antonio on the plane on their way to France. He was speaking very rapidly in French into his phone. Antonio tried not to laugh as he watched his friend gesture animatedly while he talked.

"Je ne m'inquiète pas si il a un rendez-vous important, je suis son fils mince! Sauf qu'il est en opération, je veux lui parler! **(I don't care if he has an important meeting, I am his son dammit! Unless he is in surgery I want to talk to him!)**" Francis demanded. He growled as the woman onthe other end of the line hung up. "Homme stupide. Ne même pas garder son propre téléphone cellulaire plus **(Stupid man. Doesn't even keep his own cell phone anymore)**," he grumbled.

"Problema?" Antonio asked in his own tongue. They couldn't speak the other's native language, but they could understand it as long as it was being spoken at a normal, easy rate.

"Oui! Mon père est un imbécile de grande classe qui a des gens de tout faire pour lui. Je dois prendre un rendez sacrément avant que je ne peux même pas parler avec lui. Mon propre père! **(My father is a high class idiot who has people to do everything for him. I have to make a damn appointment before I can even speak with him. My own father!)**" he said in a rush, trying to keep it just slow enough for the Spaniard to understand. He crossed his arms as he glared at the headrest in front of him.

"Fusoso. Mi amigo, el es probable que estéhaciendo una pruebaque, al ver lo mal quequierehablar con él.Él sabe que debe estar desespera do por venir buscar ayuda de él. Sólo tiene que llamar Francis **(My friend, he's probably just testing you, to see how badly he wants to talk with him. He knows he must be desperate to come to seek help from him. Just call Francis.)**" the Spaniard said, laying a hand on his arm. The Frenchman huffed and pulled his phone back up.

"I swear if 'e won't see us…" he trailed off, going from English back to French, mumbling curses the entire time. Antonio chuckled and watched his friend struggle to set up the meeting with his father. The Frenchman ended up being on the phone for most of the plane ride, talking and trying to bribe his way into seeing his father sooner. Finally, Antonio took the device and charmed his way into seeing the doctor in a week and a half.

"'Ow on earz did you manage zat?" Francis asked, dumbstruck as they were told to put on their seat belts. Antonio grinned, winking at the blonde.

"Spanish charm, mi amigo. You're worried and stressed about tú novia **(your girlfriend)** and you sound worried and almost angry. It's okay though. All that matters is that we have the appointment," the brunette said happily, smiling at Francis.

"I owe you Toni. Merci," he replied with a grin.

"So, why can't you just go to your father's house and talk to him there?" Antonio asked curiously. Francis rolled his blue eyes and rested his cheek in his palm.

"Because, 'e 'as money and wants people to know it. 'E 'ardly ever stays at 'is actual address and I don't know where to find 'im." The two sat in silence after the explanation while the plane landed. They were herded off the aircraft and found their luggage easily enough.

"Where to chico?" Antonio asked as they walked down the streets of Marseille. A warm breeze was blowing off the ocean not too far away, rustling the trees and such around them.

"My fazer's country 'ouse. 'E;s never zere but 'e and maman used to stay zere when I was little," he said. He hailed a cab and the two climbed into the back and Francis gave the cabbie the address. "So Toni, seeing as we 'ave a week a 'alf to wait and we 'ave ze 'ole of Europe in our palms, where do you suggest we go?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him with a knowing smirk. The Spaniard's bright green eyes widened and he looked at his friend disbelievingly.

"Are… are you serious?!" he cried. Francis shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"We 'ave nozing better to do," he replied. Antonio's eyes sparkled with excitement as he practically tackled his friend.

"Gracias mi amigo!" Francis laughed and ruffled the other's hair.

"De rien Toni. When do you want to go?" he asked. Antonio pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Tomorrow? We can get settled and head out then?" he asked hopefully. Francis laughed and nodded vigorously.

"Oui, tomorrow morning." Antonio couldn't stop grinning at the thought of finally visiting Spain. They chatted quietly as they rode through the city. They pulled up to a large house set against a huge, spacious, vineyard.

"Why am I not surprised your father owns a wine vineyard?" Antonio said as they dragged their bags up to the door. Francis chuckled as he pulled out a key his mother had given him before he left and slotted it into the key hole.

"Because I'm French," he replied. Antonio quirked an eyebrow at this.

"But… isn't you father American?" he asked as they walked into the beautiful house and headed upstairs.

"Oui, but he lives in France and married a French woman," Francis countered. The brunette thought about it and nodded. "'Ere, zis is your room," he said, nudging a door open. He walked down the hall a bit and opened another door. "And zis is my room."

The two men put their clothes and such away and lounges about the immense house. They rode the horses his father kept in the stables and looked around the large property. They came back to house around sunset and Francis cooked. They bid each other a rather early farewell and headed to bed. Francis made sure to call _ before he went to bed, and found it much easier to fall asleep after he did.

The two woke up bright and early the next morning as the sun was just peeking over the horizon. They ate a quick breakfast and showered before they headed out. They also packed a small something to eat and some of the CD's Francis found in one of his father's storage room for the long trip.

"So, you don't plan to ride a cab all the way to Spain do you?" Antonio asked as he shouldered the bag with their food and music in it. Francis laughed and opened a small box hanging next to the door.

"Ohonhon. You don't zink I zat stupid do you?" he asked, grabbing a random set of keys. "Com mon ami." The two walked down a flight stair to a huge garage. Antonio's jaw dropped as he took in the sight before him.

"Dios mio. How many cars does your father own?" the Spaniard asked, looking down the row of pristine, practically untouched sports cars. Francis shrugged and clicked a button on key remote.

"Zat one," Francis said as a car beeped in front of them. It was bright, apple red and Francis jumped right over the door into the driver's seat. Antonio climbed in carefully; scared he would somehow damage the beautiful vehicle. "Relax Toni. He's got plenty of these and even if he does find out we did somezing, we'll be long gone before he can do anyzing."

"Are you sure mi amigo?" Antonio asked nervously. Francis snorted and started the car.

"Positive. Now sit back and let's see 'ow fast she can get." He pressed the garage door button and slowly pulled out of the garage into the cool morning air. Francis waited until they were on the raid and floored it. They sped along the unpaved roads, laughing as the wind whipped their hair and clothes around in the early morning light. Francis slowed down after a little while if fast driving and looked at his friend.

"Do you even know where we're 'eaded?" he asked breathlessly, running a hand through his messy hair. Antonio managed to control his giggles and shook his head.

"No mi amigo. Lo siento," he said. Francis rolled his eyes and slowed to a stop. "I know we need to get to Barcelona, but I'm not sure of the exact address. If you can get me to the city though I can get to her house," Antonio said as the Frenchman pulled a GPS out of the dash.

"You're 'elpess Toni, you know zat?" Francis said as he typed Barcelona into the small device. The Spaniard shrugged and leaned back comfortably in his seat.

"I'm too excited to care right now mi amigo." Francis laughed loudly and drove off again down the dirt road. The followed the directions for a good four to five house, stopping every now and then to get gas or go to the bathroom. The sped along old back roads, going way too far over the speed limit and not caring one bit. When they finally made it into the city of Barcelona, Antonio sat up and was practically leaning out of the car, craning his head and looking around expectantly.

"Mon ami, she won't simply be out roaming ze streets," Francis said, slowing to a decent speed and waiting for Antonio to tell him where to go.

"You don't know my Maria," the Spaniard replied, looking at his friend and winking. "Okay, left up here." Francis followed the brunette's direction for nearly fifteen minutes before he told him to stop the car. Antonio and Maria were old childhood sweethearts who met in elementary school. It had been a simple crush for the both of them, and after Antonio moved he was so sad, believing he'd never hear from Maria again.

He got a letter in the mail one day, hand written by the little girl herself. They'd been keeping in touch ever sense. Antonio went and visited when he could, which was rare and he hadn't been in awhile. When they were sixteen, he'd sent her a promise ring with a letter declaring his love. It had all been very romantic and Francis had definitely approved.

"We're here!" he cried, jumping out of the car, he forest green eyes shining with a happiness and joy Francis hadn't seen in years. The blonde shut off the car and followed his friend to the small building. The door opened, revealing a rather short, medium sized woman wiping her hand on her apron.

"Hola. Cómo te llamas? **(Hello. What's your name?)**" she asked, looking up at the two boys.

"Hola señora. Mi llamo es Antonio Fernández Carriedo. He venido a ver a María. **(Hello ma'am. My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I'm here to see Maria.)**" he said politely. She nodded her head and backed into the house.

"Si, por favor, venir pulga. Voy por ella, ella está arriba. **(Yes, please, come in. I'll go get her, she's upstairs.)**" She walked up the staircase as Francis took a seat on the comfy couch. Antonio stood though, bouncing on the balls of his feet and practically glowing he was so ecstatic. Francis smirked, wishing he could relish in the young man's joy. A loud gasp was heard from the second floor and Antonio looked up. The thump of rapid footsteps was heard on the stairs and Francis looked over the edge of the sofa. Antonio's breath hitched and a small smiled graced his lips.

A tall girl with dark, tanned skin was standing at the foot of the stairs. She had large, wide eyes the color of warm chocolate. Her hair was dark and wavy, pulled back into a loose ponytail. She had on a light, comfortable purple blouse and a deep red skirt that fell half way below the knee. She had golden hoops earrings, a simply gold chain around her neck and a small, silver ring of her left ring finger

"Toni," she breathed. She stood stock still for a moment before sprinting forward and launching herself into Antonio's arms. "Toni, Toni, Toni!" she cried happily, not even noticing Francis yet.

"Maria, mi dulce. He echado mucho de menos! **(Maria, my sweet. I've missed you so much!)**" Antonio replied, wrapping her in his arms and spinning her around. "Te amo! Te amo, Te amo, Te amo! ¿Cómo has estado cariño? Mi dios te juro que eres más hermoso que cuando te vil a última vez! **(I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you! How have you been sweetheart? My god I swear you're even more beautiful than when I saw you last time!)**" Maria giggled and pulled back a little bit.

"¿Por qué nome dijisteque ibas a venir? Me he fijado a mí mismo y limpiar la casa! **(Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would've fixed myself up and cleaned the house!)**" she replied. Francis grinned as he watched the two, only able to understand bits of the very quick Spanish.

"Eres preciosa amor, **(You're gorgeous love)**" Antonio said before pulling her close and kissing her. She kissed back passionately, almost desperately, as if she'd never hold him again. Francis averted his gaze to let the two have their moment. After a few minutes though, he cleared his throat. Antonio looked up, face flushed and a happy, yet slightly embarrassed grin on his face.

"Lo siento Francis **(Sorry)**," he said, grinning goofily. Maria's eyes widened as she noticed the Frenchman and blushed.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," Francis said as he stood up. Maria moved so she was slightly behind Antonio and the Spaniard grinned.

"Está bien Maria. Francis es mi amigo. Mi mejor amigo. **(It's alright Maria. Francis is my friend. My best friend.)**" he soothed, wrapping an arm around her waist. She glanced at him before looking back to Francis. He gave a friendly smiled and she returned the gesture slowly.

"Hola Francis? Tú hablo español? **(Hello Francis. Do you speak Spanish?)**" she asked, moving forward so she wasn't being shielded by Antonio. The blonde shook his head but grinned.

"Non, but I can understand it. Do you understand English?" he questioned. She grinned happily and nodded and stuck out her hand.

"Si! Es un placer conocerte Francis. Soy Maria **(It's a pleasure to meet you Francis. I'm Maria)**," she said. Francis kissed the back of her delicate hand.

"Ze pleasure is all mine Maria," he replied, bowing and straightening up. The girl laughed again and looked back at Antonio.

"Le gusta Toni,**(like him Toni)**" she giggled. The Spaniard laughed and pulled her into a hug.

"Gracias Francis. Mucho gracias," he said, giving the blonde a look that said everything he couldn't speak. Francis nodded, smiling and silently telling him he was welcome.

The two men ended up spending almost a week in Barcelona with Maria before they finally had to get back. Antonio swore he would come see her again soon and kissed her goodbye. She wiped away her tears and kissed his forehead. They held each for a few minutes before Antonio pulled away and they left. It made Francis' heart ache to see his own girlfriend.

They drove all the way back to Marseille, enjoying the drive this time instead of speeding through. The sun was low in the sky when they returned back Francis' father's country home. They barely managed to make it inside and to their bedrooms. Francis remembered to call _ and told her goodnight and then passed out of the large, comfortable mattress.

Three days later, Francis and Antonio were sitting inside a large, office-like building waiting to see Francis' father. The chatted quietly while Francis first spout of anger on the arrival trip diminished into nervousness and twiddling his thumbs. They looked up and saw the young secretary glaring at them. She told them where to go and they left immediately. They followed down the hall and entered the office. Francis swallowed and his breathingquickened but Antonio gave him a reassuring smile as they neared the large desk.

"Ah, just one moment," the blonde behind the desk said. He quickly finished typing and then clicked his mouse. He looked up then and Antonio was stunned. Now he knew exactly where Francis got his looks from. Francis was the spitting image of his father. The wavy blonde hair, the beautiful, sky blue eyes, everything. "Well, isn't this a surprise," he said, looking between the two.

"You obviously knew we were coming," Francis said somewhat coldly. The elder shrugged and grinned at his son.

"Yes well, I didn't think it was actually you," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "What is it you need anyway. If you've come all the way to France to talk to me about something you must really need or want it." Francis grit his teeth and took a deep breath.

"It's my girlfriend," he said. He looked up, begging silently. "She's blind. She 'ad an accident a while back and she can no longer see," he explained. As he began trying to talk to his father, his phone began vibrating in his back pocket. He wanted so desperately to reach back and answer it, but he had to keep talking. Luckily, Antonio was very perceptive and noticed it going off in his back pocket.

"Um, Señor Bonnefoy. Real quick, where is the restroom?" the Spaniard asked, standing up and looking at the older blonde for the answer.

"Down the hall to your right," he said, looking from Francis to Antonio and back again," and… it's Smith, not, Bonnefoy." The brunette winced slightly but hurried out and just in time. His phone rang once and he answered it.

"Hola?" he asked. He was surprised when he heard Gilbert on other end.

"Hey! Toni! Vhere's Frenchie? I gotta talk to him," Gilbert said hurriedly. The Spaniard quirked an eyebrow before answering.

"He's talking with his father now. Everything okay?" he asked curiously. He heard _ squeak in the background but focused on the Prussian.

"Alvight. Vhen he gets done tell him to call. Zere's a… slight problem," he replied. Antonio's eyes went wide and was instantly worried.

"Is _ hurt?" he inquired. He was relieved when Gilbert answered.

"Nein, she's okay, just tell him to call." Antonio nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright mi amigo, will do. I have to go now. Adios!" The brunette hung up and pocketed his phone. He walked back to the large room and entered.

"Vous ne s'est jamais soucié! Je viens vous demander une faveur et tout ce que vous pouvez dire, c'est que vous avez un travail à faire et n'ont pas le temps de faire quelque chose si ridiculement ennuyeux! J'aurais dû venir à vous pour l'aide était une erreur! **(You never cared! I come to ask one favor and all you can say is that you have work to do and don't have time to do something so ridiculously tedious! I should have known coming to you for help was a mistake!)**" Francis shouted, turning on his heel and storming towards the door. He looked at Antonio and swallowed. "Je serai dehors, **(I'll be outside)**" he muttered and walked out. Antonio looked up and saw Mr. Smith with his head in his hands.

"Señor, if I may ask why won't you help your son?" the Spaniard questioned. "You left when he was nothing but a child. I know what it's like growing up without a parent; my mother died when I was young, but she didn't have a choice. You did. Your son needs one thing. He's never asked anything from you until now and you refuse to even try," he pressed, walking close to the blonde.

"Boy, you don't know what you're talking about," Francis' father said as he looked up. Antonio snorted and looked down in contempt.

"I've seen Francis struggling from the day you left. He's slept with girls all throughout high school because of you. He's had this huge, gaping hole where you ought to be, but he's finally found someone who loves him even after what he's done. Someone who cares and loves him when you should have been there. Don't you think the least you could do is try and help her?" Antonio didn't wait for an answer and quickly followed his friend out. He found him leaning against the wall smoking a rare cigarette despite the no smoking sign.

"You shouldn't be smoking mi amigo," Antonio warned. The Frenchman rolled his eyes and took a long drag on the cigarette. "Gilbert called, he said _ was alright but there was a problem and you needed to call. Francis' blue eyes widened at this and he remembered the unanswered phone call. He snatched his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number. He could hear the tears in her voice as she answered with a weak 'hello'.

"_ mon amour. Are you alright? What's wrong?" Francis asked hurriedly, his heart thumping as he prayed that she was okay. Antonio smiled as he watched his friend start mumbling worried in his own language.

"Francis, sweetheart, calm down. I'm alright, I promise. It's not me," _ said. Francis could hear her voice cracking as she tried to comfort him. "M-my daddy was in a car accident. I-I n-need you Frenchie, p-please." Francis heart ached as she spoke. Her father was the only family that she had. He couldn't die. She was pleading with him and he couldn't stand being away from her any longer. He didn't care if was coming home empty handed as long as he got to see her again.

"I'll be on a plane back 'ome tomorrow. I'll be zere as soon as I can ma chérie," he said. He heard her quietly whimpering on the other side and he wished he could be there with her.

"Please h-hurry." Francis did his best to calm her down and keep tears out of his eyes.

"Shh mon amour, everyzing will be alright. I'll see you soon, oui?" he said, looking up to Antonio with a torn expression.

"Oui."The reply was quiet and tired. It took all the energy she had to answer.

"Je t'aime _. Everyzing's going to be alright. I'll be 'ome in no time. I swear," he replied, trying to comfort her as best he could. I swallowed before answering quietly.

"I love you too Francis. Hurry." She hung up and Francis almost choked at the tightness in his chest.

"We 'ave to go 'ome. _'s fazer 'as been in an accident," he explained. Antonio's eyes went wide.

"Si, come on. I'll get the plane tickets as we head back. Let's get to the house so we can pack," he said. The two started to leave the building, and Francis heaved a sigh.

"I was really 'oping 'e would 'elp. I just wanted 'er to be 'appy again," he said, wiping his eyes as tears welled. Antonio patted his back and barely noticed footsteps running down the hall.

"Francis!" The two boys looked back and saw Mr. Smith hurtling towards them. Francis' eyes went wide and he stood with a shocked expression. "I… I'll go, bu… but I can't promise… I can do anything," he huffed, stopping in front of the boys and holding a hand over his chest.

"Are… are you serious?" his son asked, dumbstruck. His father nodded and swallowed.

"Yes, I'm not sure I can do anything until I see her, but I will try," he said. Francis felt as though he couldn't breathe he was so happy. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

"Merci fazer," he managed. Mr. Smith nodded and sighed, scratching the back of his head. "We're leaving tomorrow morning, is zat okay?" he asked cautiously. The blonde nodded and looked at his son, trying to tell him without words how sorry he was. Francis nodded and straightened up.

"I'll meet you both at the airport tomorrow at eight then?" he questioned. Francis nodded and grabbed Antonio's arm and pulled him out of the room. The two didn't say a word as they drove back to the country house. It was only five o' clock, but Francis bid Antonio good night. He walked up to his room and flopped on the bed, not even changing into his clothes. He closed his eyes as silent tears slipped down his cheeks and onto the pillow underneath his head. He was dying to be home again.


	7. Reunited and A Meeting

I sighed, resting my forehead against the stiff sheets of my father's hospital bed. I held my father's hand loosely in my own tired fingers as I listened to the constant beep of his heart monitor. A few silent tears slipped down my nose and onto my glasses and I raised my head as the door opened quietly.

"_?" I recognized Matthew's soft, quiet voice. I could more than one set of footsteps though, two or three at most. "Hello love, how are you?" Arthur asked.

"I-I'm alright," I mumbled, leaning back and closing my eyes. I was so tired but really didn't have much idea as to when day and night was. I knew when I got tired to sleep and when my father got me up for school, it was time to wake up. But since I'd gotten to the hospital, I'd refused to fall asleep despite what my body was telling me so I'd most likely stayed up all night. "What time is it?"

"A little past ten in the morning. You look exhausted _," Arthur said. I jumped slightly as a hand landed on my shoulder.

"When did Gil leave?" Matthew asked softly, sitting down next to me. I shrugged and reached out for the Canadian.

"Right after he called you," I replied as someone's hand grasped mine. "Where's Al?" I inquired, realizing the loud American was in the room. I felt me way up the arm and rested my head on the person's shoulder. I was positive it was Mathew by the hair brushing against my forehead.

"He had to go do something. He'll be here soon," Arthur answered. I nodded sleepily as my dull eyes began closing. I could feel my glasses slipping off my nose but was too tired to grab them.

"You need to rest _. Sleep," Matthew instructed. I shook my head despite the fatigue quickly taking over my system. "We'll all be here when you wake up, eh. Maybe even Francis." I smiled sleepily at the thought of finding Francis here when I woke up.

"Just a… small… nap," I trailed off, letting unconsciousness take me.

Matthew caught _ as she fell forward off his shoulder. He laid her down across his lap and gently took her darkened glasses off her face and set them on a small table next to them. He looked up at Arthur who shrugged and sat down in the chair next to him.

"Alfred and Gilbert will be here soon. I'd just let her sleep until then," he said. Matthew nodded and rubbed her back.

"She's been through so much. Do you think it'll be better when Francis gets back?" he asked. Arthur sighed and leaned back, rubbing his head.

"If he's bringing his father back, then hopefully, yes." The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, just waiting for something to happen.

Francis sat in his seat, squirming every few minutes as he switched his gaze from the window, to his hands, to the seat in front of him, and back to the window. Antonio sat next to him, watching with a small smile. His friend was so anxious to get home.

"Mi amigo," the Spaniard started, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. Francis jumped and looked at Antonio. "Calm down chico. She's alright. We'll be home in less than an hour. Breathe amigo." Francis swallowed and nodded, leaning his head back.

"I know, I just… What if 'e can't do anyzing?" he asked desperately, his eyes glancing between the seats to his father sitting behind them.

"He's going to do what he can Francis, that's all we can ask right now." Antonio's green eyes shined as he looked at Francis. The blonde nodded and turned his head to look out his window.

"I'm almost 'ome mon amour. I'll be zere soon," he mumbled, trailing his finger down the window as he watched the clouds fly by.

Francis, Antonio and Mr. Smith walked off the plane about forty-five minutes later. Francis was eagerly walking through the crowds, his father and Antonio trailing behind him. They had their luggage and were looking around the large place when two bodies collided with them.

"Francis! Toni!" Gilbert and Alfred shouted in unison. The two laughed and hugged their friends. They caught up quickly before Francis remembered why he'd come home in such a rush.

"'Ow's _? What's 'appened?" he asked worriedly, looking between the albino and the American with wide blue eyes. His father stood behind the four boys, watching how his son was desperate for information on the condition of the young girl he was dating.

Gilbert explained what had happened and tried to sooth his friend. The blonde nodded and wiped his eyes. They all left the airport and climbed into Gilbert's car. He drove as fast as was legal to the hospital. Francis was the first out of the vehicle and Gilbert was forced to jog right in front of him to keep him from running all over the place as he led them to _'s father's room. Francis opened the door quickly and saw Matthew and Arthur sitting talking quietly. _ was lying in Matthew's lap, a small frown on her face.

"_!" He ran forward and knelt down next to her. Arthur and Matthew jumped slightly but were relieved to see the Frenchman none the less.

"Shh Francis, you'll wake her up," Matthew mumbled. Francis swallowed thickly as he ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. He looked behind him at her father, lying still in the hospital bed. He didn't look he was too badly injured expect for his arms and leg.

"'Ow is 'e?" he asked, looking at the two boys in front of him. Arthur gave a small shrug as he tried to look at the stuff around him. He was hoping to go to school to be a doctor when he graduated and now he realized just how much work it would be.

"Stable. _'s been stressed and frightened about his condition ever since she figured out, but he's doing alright so far," the Brit replied, looking at the unconscious man. Francis sighed and grabbed _'s hand, pulling it to rest against his cheek.

"Oh mon amour, you've 'ad such a 'orrible time by yourself. I've miss you so much, ma chèrie. I'm 'ere now," he murmured almost nonsensically, placing delicate kisses on her cheeks and forehead. He heard her moan softly and saw her eyelashes fluttered. "_? Ma chèrie?" he asked gently, running his thumb over her cheek. He smiled as her tired, scarred _(e/c)_ eyes opened.

"_? Ma chèrie?" The voice sounded way off, like I was still dreaming. It sounded like Francis. I sighed contentedly at the feeling of something smooth gliding over my cheekbone. I opened my eyes, though it was still dark as night to me.

"F-Francis?" I muttered, yawning and sitting up. Strong, warm arms were around me in seconds. I could tell by the light scent of roses that Francis was back. I held him in my arms a moment, relishing the feel.

"Oui mon amour. Oh ma chèrie I've missed you so much and I've been so worried. I zought I wouldn't get 'ome fast enough," he said in a rush.

"I missed you too Francis." He pulled back and I felt his lips moving against mine. My breath caught but I kissed back. It was over too soon and he pulled back but rested his forehead against mine.

"Francis," I choked softly, clutching at his collar. Tears welled in my eyes as everything started crashing back down on me, and gentle, familiar fingers wiped them away. "M-My daddy. W-what am I going t-to do?"

"Shh chèrie," Francis murmured, "come 'ere." I felt myself being pulled to my feet, moving around, and then I was sitting in someone's lap, "It's alright _." Francis pulled me close to his chest. I leaned into him, crying softly.

"B-but, w-what about-," A finger pressed against my lips, quieting me.

"'E's alright ma chèrie. 'E's going to be fine," he murmured, continually running his fingers through my hair. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck.

"I'm s-scared Francis," I whimpered, holding my hands tightly in his jacket. He murmured soothingly in my ear and I heard the sound of footsteps shuffling out the door.

"_." I gulped and shook my head. "_(f/n)_ _(m/n)_, look at me," Francis said, gripping my chin.

"You know I can't do that," I muttered, raising my head but still kept my head bowed. I could sense his eye roll.

"You know what I mean," he said, using his hand to lift my face so my dull eyes were looking in his direction. "Everyzing is going to be alright. Your fazer's a strong man. 'E's going to make it. I know it." I sniffed slightly, running my hand under my eyes.

"Okay," I sighed, leaning forward and managing to rest my forehead against his. "Francis, what if-"

"We'll cross zat bridge if we get to it. Don't zink about stuff like zat." He was firm and yet gentle in the he spoke. It was soothing and helped me calm down slightly. I let a few tears slip down my nose and nodded. We sat there for a little while, talking softly and cuddling after two weeks of being apart.

It wasn't long before the door opened and more people were walking in. I could feel a tension in the air as they walked in and hear a tightness in everyone's voices as we talked. I finally sat up straight, fed up with whatever was going on.

"Okay! What the heck am I missing!?" I asked loudly. Francis jumped slightly, but I felt his arms tighten slightly around my waist.

"Mon amour," Francis murmured in my ear. I shook my head and stood up shakily. I didn't know what I was searching for exactly, but I could just sense something in the room. I reached down and ran my hand over Francis' face.

"Francis," I mumbled, walking slowly to the side. I felt someone's breath on my head. I traced my fingers along their jaw and then through their hair. "Gilbert." I continued down the row of people, saying their names until I'd passed all six of them. I scrunched my eyebrows together as I listened to someone else's breathing beside me. I reached out nervously until a large hand grabbed mine and lifted it towards their face. I could tell as my fingers touched their cheek it was a man, an adult by the feel of his cheeks and neck.

I ran my fingertips over his chin and jaw and then up his cheeks. I felt slender eyebrows and soft hair as I rubbed his forehead. The last thing I did was feel his nose and mouth. I pulled back, opening and closing my mouth a few times. I was willing to bet he had the same blue eyes and blonde hair as my boyfriend.

"Confused dear?" I jumped as he asked the simple question. I nodded my head and turned to look for Francis.

"Mon amour," the Frenchman said, his arm wrapping around my lower back. "I would like you to meet my fazer." My blind eyes widened as I looked back to Francis' father. I felt such a surge of different emotions as I stuck my hand out. Worry; why would his father be here? What could he possibly want? Anger; this man had left Francis when he was a child and never even tried to talk to him. Confusion; Francis seemed fine, albeit a bit nervous, with the man standing in front of him. What was going on?

"Um… hi?" I mumbled as his large hand gripped mine and shook. "I'm _ _."

"David Smith. Pleasure to meet you," he replied. I swallowed, feeling very much in spotlight and yet out of place. I wondered about the differences in their names, but decided to ask later. I heard Francis sigh and looked up at him.

"Cherie, do you remember ze conversation we had a few monzs ago?" he asked me, "About what you wanted?" I blinked in surprised and nodded, reaching up to rub around my eyes. "My fazer's an eye surgeon and I… I asked if could come look at your eyes."

"M-my… eyes," I mumbled, awestruck that he would go to such lengths for me. He hadn't spoken to his father since he was in fifth grade and he went all the way out to France to find him. I was also stunned that the man had actually come back with my boyfriend. Maybe… he still cared? "F-Francis," I stammered, reaching up for his face. "Thank you," I whispered, cupping his cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you so much," I said over and over as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

"_, I believe it was." I pulled back and I heard Mr. Smith start speaking.

"Y-Yes sir," I managed, leaning my head on Francis' shoulder. "Thank you sir, for coming all this way." I told him. I really wasn't too sure about the man yet, but he'd come back with Francis, so I couldn't hate him completely.

"It's no problem. Francis only told me that you were blind, he didn't go into great detail however. Would you care to tell me how this happened?" he asked. I nodded and let Francis lead me back to a chair. We sat down and I told him almost the exact same story I'd told the rest of the bunch when I'd first met them. He didn't say anything while I explained or a little bit afterwards.

"Do you think there's anything you can do Mr. Smith?" Matthew asked softly. I buried my face into Francis' chest, not positive I wanted to hear the answer. I heard a sigh come from the man and I looked up tiredly.

"I'm not sure," he started, "but by the way you described it, and I would have to have medical tools to look, your eyes have been torn to bits on the inside. I'm not sure how the initial surgery went to fix your eyes, but you must have been out for a long while to have something like that fixed." I nodded, agreeing with everything he said. It was true I had been under anesthesia for quite a while and that they had explained it was a miracle I still had my eyes.

"Well, for right now, there's not much I can do until I can look at your eyes properly," he explained. "I can see if they have a place in the hospital, which they should, and see if I would be allowed to use it."

"Right now?" I asked, surprised slightly. Francis laced his fingers through mine comfortingly as tried to face his father's direction.

"If that's alright. I wouldn't do any surgery or anything. I would just be able to get a look at your eyes and if there's a place here, then you won't have to be far from your father," he explained gently. I felt Francis stiffen and wrap his arms around me.

"Ahh, I see," I replied, running my thumb soothingly over his forearm. "Thank you very much. Do you know when you'll be able to look at them?" I asked.

"I can go see if they have a room free now. I'll be back in a bit." I nodded and listened as the door closed. I heard everybody release a breath and I quirked an eyebrow. I felt Francis rest his head on my shoulder and I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, feeling small droplets falling onto my shirt. He sat up and nodded.

"Oui. Just… just trying to figure 'im out," he replied. I reached out and cupped his cheek with my free hand.

"I can't say thank you enough. For going through this for me," I said, running my thumb under his eyes, wiping his tears. I kissed him and felt him shaking slightly. "May I ask you something?" I mumbled, pulling away slightly.

"Oui, bien sûr, b**(Of course)**/b" he replied, laying his head on my shoulder and burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"If your father's name in Smith, then why is yours and your mother's Bonnefoy?" I inquired gently, curious as to the difference. His fingers were running up and down my back, almost if trying to comfort himself as well as me.

"My maman's maiden name is Bonnefoy. When 'e left, she simply changed boz of our names back to Bonnefoy," he explained.

"Ah, okay," I murmured. I could feel all the other's eyes on us and I turned towards them. "Did you all know about his father coming?" I questioned. They all mumbled incoherently and I rolled my useless eyes.

"I was going to ask before I even zought about leaving, but ze way you talked about it… I wanted it to be a surprise," he murmured, placing light kisses on my cheeks and around my eyes.

"Thank you love. Thank you so much." I bent to kiss him against when the hospital door opened.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Mr. Smith said as he walked back it. I shook my head and turned towards him. "They said they have an empty room that we could use. Would you like to go now?" The man was all business, that much was obvious.

"Yes sir, that's fine. Could I have a minute alone, with my dad?" I asked, turning towards all the men.

"Of course. We'll be right outside when you're ready," he said. I listened as he walked out and then as someone, Antonio I think, ushered the guys all out. I stood up and Francis hugged me.

"Right outside, okay?" he whispered, squeezing my shoulders. I nodded and heard him leave the room as well. I found my father's bed and walked up to his side. I grabbed his hand and sat down beside him.

"Did you hear that daddy?" I asked softly, a smile working its way onto my lips. "I might get my sight back. Normally I'd ask your opinion, but we both know the answer." I smiled and reached up for his face. "If I go through with this, you've got to wake up by the time I get my eyes back alright? I want to see you awake and healthy," I told him. I sighed as my fingers traced the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. I stood up and bent over to kiss his forehead. "I love you daddy. I'll be back soon 'kay?" A few tears fell but I pulled back and headed towards the door before my nerves got to me.

I nodded and only half listened to Francis' father as he told me almost exactly what I'd been told when my eyes were first damaged. He had looked thoroughly over my eyes for nearly an hour and was now trying to explain some new and old stuff to me about what was wrong. Basically, it looked like someone had taken an extremely sharp knife into a silk clothing store and cut everything to shreds.

"I could operate, but there would only be a very, _very_ slim chance that it would work," he said. I bit my lip and felt six different hands squeeze my shoulders, arms, and hand in reassurance.

"But there is a chance, even if it's slim?" I pressed, holding tightly to Francis hand.

"Yes, there is," Mr. Smith answered. I nodded determinedly and swallowed, facing him as best as I could.

"Then I want to," I stated firmly. Francis ran his thumb over my knuckles comfortingly and I leaned into his side slightly.

"Alright then Miss _(l/n)_, I'll have my assistant e-mail me the papers. It shouldn't take more than a day or two and we can start," he explained.

"T-thank you sir," I replied weakly. I felt like I could sense him smiling.

"It's no problem dear. Now, could anybody tell me where I could find a nice motel?" he asked. I scrunched my eyebrows as Alfred started mentioning a few places around town. I reached my hand back to shush him and faced Mr. Smith again.

"You don't have a place to stay?" I inquired. I felt Francis squeeze my hand warningly, but I ignored him.

"No, but that's okay. I'll find a place until I go back home." I shook my head and smiled warmly.

"You're more than welcome to stay at my house while you're here," I told him. I could feel the tension building in the air but I shrugged it off.

"I… that's quite the offer Miss _(l/n)_, but I assure you that I can find someplace-"

"I insist. It's the least I can do. Please, we have an extra room and it wouldn't be any trouble. And boys, I swear if you don't all stop staring I'll beat you with my walking stick," I threatened, turning to glare at them.

"I don't want to be any trouble," he replied a bit nervously.

"You'll be no trouble at all, I promise." He was hesitant, but finally agreed to stay at my house. I gave him the address and told him I'd be there soon. I heard him leave and somebody turned me roughly towards them.

"What are you zinking!?" Francis cried. I raised an eyebrow and scratched my nose.

"Am I not allowed to be hospitable?" I questioned, standing up and moving to walk out.

"To 'im?!" I shrugged and reached out for the Frenchman.

"What's wrong with him? I know what he did, but maybe he's changed. Perhaps he feels bad for leaving. You must mean something to him if he came all the way for a girl he doesn't even know," I told him firmly. "I've made up my mind on this and you're not changing it. Now, are you going to take me home or will I have to stay here another night?" I heard the scrape of a chair and felt an arm around my shoulders.

"Gilbert drove us 'ere. I don't 'ave my car," he said stiffly. I winced internally and promised myself to make it better when I got home. I heard footsteps and them someone poked me in the stomach.

"I guess ze awesome me vill drive you home. I'll see you later birdie." I told everyone bye and we walked out. It was quiet as they led me back down to the ground level. I only spoke to the lady at the front desk and told her to call me if anything changed with my father. We walked out and I was helped into the backseat of Gilbert's vehicle. It was silent as the albino drove except for the small whisper of the radio. I closed my eyes and rested my head back. I was completely drained; emotionally and physically. My stomach agreed with me on the last one as it growled.

Gilbert dropped us off at my house and Francis helped me inside. I frowned slightly as he tugged his hand away from me once we were inside. He was only just home and this was our first argument. I walked towards the kitchen and heard him following quietly behind me.

"Francis," I mumbled, resting my hands on the countertop in front of me. A hand landed lightly on my back and I swallowed. "I-I'm sorry. I… I just know how it feels to be alone. And… and I just feel so useless right now, i-it's the least I could do," I whimpered, rubbing at my eyes. Francis turned me around and pulled me close to him.

"You are not useless, mon amour," he murmured, kissing my temple. He sighed and pulled back to cup my cheek. "I'm sorry for acting as I did, I just… I was surprised, I guess." He pressed a small kiss to my nose and a tear slipped down my cheek. "But I understand now, but I'm not leaving tonight." My eyes widened before I smiled at him.

"After having you gone for so long, I won't mind that at all," I murmured. I kissed him, pressing my lips eagerly to his. My arms wrapped around his neck and his went around my back, pulling me flush against him. His tongue had only just swiped across my lips when my doorbell rang. "I… bet that… that's your father," I said in between breathes. He nodded and helped me back into the living room.

I let Mr. Smith in and told him to take his bags to the back room. I told Francis to come help me find a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese for supper. While he fixed the meal, I meandered down the hall towards the guest bedroom. I knocked lightly and poked my head in.

"Mr. Smith?" I asked quietly. I heard shuffling around and smiled.

"Ah, hello Miss. _(l/n)_," he replied. "I do believe I owe you much thanks for allowing me to stay here while I'm here." I shook my head, yawning as I did so.

"It's no problem at all. The least I could do for having you come all this way," I told him. "And thank you for that, I know it couldn't have been easy to just get up and leave so suddenly." I smiled as I felt him loop his arm through mine and head down the hall.

"It took a little… persuasion, but I see now that I'm glad I came," he replied. I chuckled and grinned warmly at him.

"You aren't the only one. Well, I hope mac and cheese will do for tonight. I'm not sure all that's in the house and I'm absolutely exhausted." He laughed lightly and I could smell the macaroni from the hall.

"That's perfectly alright dear. It's always nice to have something simple now and again," he said. I bobbed my head in agreement and squeaked when I was suddenly pulled into someone else's arms.

"'Ello amour," Francis murmured in my ear. I blushed and leaned into the strong embrace. I leaned up, breathing quietly in his ear as I hugged him.

"Please be nice," I whispered before pulling away and grinning. "Alright, Francis can you get the bowl out of the cabinet above the stove?" I asked. He kissed my cheek and I heard him moving stuff around.

"Will ze small blue ones do?" he asked. I nodded and leaned back against the counter top. "Ze food's almost done."

"Thank you Francis," I replied, reaching out blindly for him. Large hands grabbed my own and pulled me against a warm chest. I smiled at the contact and rested my head on his chest. I would've leaned in for a kiss, but remembered his father not five feet from us. There was little conversation as we waited for the macaroni and cheese to finish. Francis pulled away to mix it all together A bowl was pressed into my hands and then an arm wrapped around my waist. I was led through the kitchen and back into the living room.

"Go ahead and pick out a movie hun," I told Francis, feeling for the couch and plopping down onto it. After we had a movie going and I was snuggled as close to Francis as I could get, we dug in. I barely even listened to the chest romance film that the Frenchman had put in. I was simply enjoying something wasn't hospital food and the company of my boyfriend.

I started yawning before the movie was even halfway over. Francis noticed and I had a feeling some silent conversation was going on between him and his father. The movie was cut short and they decided it was time to go to bed. I didn't argue as I leaned against Francis, struggling to get to my room in a conscious state as we walked to my room. I could hear Mr. Smith following along behind and bid him goodnight as I was lead into my room. I started leaning to the side, already in the process of falling asleep, as the door clicked shut behind me.

"Amour!" I blinked sleepily, not even flinching as Francis' hands gripped my arms. He pulled me against him and I yawned again.

"Mmm?" I hummed, my eyelids drooping as I rest my head on his chest. He chuckled and bent down to pick me up. I cuddled into his warmth, feeling secure and safe for the first time in two weeks.

"You look ex'austed, amoureux," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. I nodded, nuzzling into his throat.

"I am. It's been a long day." I felt my mattress sink underneath me and sighed as I fell back onto it. "There's probably a pair of… jogging pants in my dad's room that you can wear. Head back towards the living room and it'll be on the right. Go through his chest of drawers and there should be a pair in there somewhere." It was the middle of winter and even though I kept the heater running in my room, it could still get chilly sometimes.

"Alright chérie, I'll be right back," he replied and I heard the door open gently. I felt around my bed and found my tank top and shorts for sleeping in. I changed quickly and laid back on my pillows. The door opened and I closed my eyes.

"Did you find them alright?" I asked, resting my hands behind my head.

"Oui amour," he replied. I felt the bed dip again and sighed as light fingers touched my face. I smiled as they traced the dip and ridges. The rubbed across my lips and my eyes fluttered open as he very gently pressed his mouth to mine.

"I love you Francis," I breathed as he pulled away. He blew lightly in my face and I giggled and pressed out noses together.

"Je t'aime aussi _." He pulled my close and I rest my on his chest. Whenever he spoke French it just sent chills down my spine. I was absentmindedly running my hand along his arm when I noticed the thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover his arms and neck. I reached down for the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up.

"Um… chérie?" What are you doing?" I looked up, still tugging at the fabric. I blushed and reached up towards his face. His lips were pulled into a grin and I blushed even more.

"You're sweating and I figured you might be kinda warm," I mumbled, fingering the hem of his T-shirt. He chuckled and reached down towards my hands. He grabbed the shirt and I could tell when he pulled it off, it was in a single, fluid movement. "B-better?" I stammered.

"Oui, much," he replied, putting his arms back around me. I sighed shakily and pressed against him. "_, is somezing wrong?" I shook my head, ignoring the tears sliding down my cheeks. "Oh chérie, what's ze matter?" he inquired, lifting my face and wiping my cheeks from the sudden onslaught of tears.

"I'm s-scared, Francis," I choked, "w-what if it doesn't work? What if I c-can't see again? What if m-my d-daddy doesn't wake up?" I shook with my contained sobs, clutching at the Frenchman's now bare chest. The barrage of questions was dizzying and decided to attack when I was most vulnerable.

"Shh, amour, shh," Francis cooed softly. "Don't zink about zings like zat right now. Just sleep ma chérie, I'm right 'ere ze entire time. You don't 'ave to worry about zat now. Just sleep." I whimpered and gasped softly for breath, trying to do as the blonde said. I slowly calmed down, using Francis' chest as a pillow.

"I'm s-sorry," I murmured. He must've smiled and kissed my head, telling me there was nothing to be sorry for. My eyes were shut and I was completely unaware of anything happening at this point however. I was fast asleep, glad to be in the grasp of unconsciousness.


End file.
